LI  B  R  A  R.Y 

OF   THE 

UNIVLR.SITY 

Of    ILLINOIS 

823 


H7G 
sev.2 


J. 


^o: 


■  <c 


SAYINGS  AND  DOINGS, 


OR 


SKETCHES    FROM    LIFE. 


SECOND    SERIES. 

Full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances. 

Shakspeare. 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 
VOL.  I. 

LONDON 

PRINTED   FOR   HENRY  COLBLKN 
NEW   BURLINGTON-STREET. 

1825. 


<79  ^ 

VV 

)         v.  \ 


PttlUTEB    BY    S.  AND   R.   BENTLEY,    DORSET    STREET. 


.3 

Co 


PREFACE. 


The  success  of  the  first  series  of  Sayings 
and  Doings,  having  induced  me  to  publish  a 
second,  I  avail  myself  of  the  opportunity  thus 
afforded  me,  of  saying  a  word  or  two  upon  the 
strange  propensity  in  some  persons  to  snatch  at 
every  cap  exposed  to  public  view,  and  clap  it 
on  their  own  heads  as  their  exclusive  property. 
Nothing  can  be  more  silly  than  for  men  to  at- 
tract the  attention  of  the  world  to  their  failings, 
by  identifying  themselves  with  every  imaginary 
portrait  of  knave  or  fool,  which  may  appear 
in  black  and  white  before  the  public ;  but  there 
is  no  remedy  for  such  an  epidemic. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  in  printing  the  follow- 
ing additional  sheets,  I  shall  furnish  fresh  ma- 


IV  PREFACE. 

terials  for  caps,  and  I  have  no  desire  to  prevent 
any  gentleman  from  fitting  on  as  many  of  them 
as  in  his  discretion  he  may  think  proper.  But 
in  one  instance,  as  to  what  is  past,  it  is  per- 
haps necessary  to  say  a  word  or  two,  somewhat 
more  seriously  upon  the  subject. 

An  individual,  who,  a  year  or  two  since,  was 
much  spoken  of  in  fashionable  society,  has 
thought  proper,  not  only  to  put  a  cap  upon  his 
head,  out  of  my  last  Series,  which  was  never 
made  for  him,  but  to  persevere  in  drawing 
public  attention  to  the  nicety  of  the  Jit ;  after 
having  received  the  most  unquestionable  evi- 
dence that  he  never  entered  my  mind  while  I 
was  writing  the  story. 

I  do  not  here  repeat  the  denial,  for  any  pur- 
pose whatever,  but  to  dispel  any  doubt  about 
the  sincerity  of  my  first  assertion.  That  there 
may  be  certain  points  or  incidents,  perhaps  situ- 
ations, in  the  life  of  Mr.  Burton  Danvers, 
which    correspond    with    the    history    of    the 


PREFACE. 


gentleman  in  question,  is  not  only  possible 
but  probable.  This  is  only  the  consequence 
of  drawing  upon  nature  for  materials.  One 
man  differs  so  little  from  another  in  reasoning 
and  conduct,  under  similar  circumstances,  that 
it  is  scarcely  possible  to  exclude  the  individual 
from  all  resemblance  to  the  genus  described. 

That  this  is  most  true,  it  is  clear ;  for  I  am 
told,  that  I  have  been  suspected  by  some,  of 
intending  Burton  Danvers  for  a  totally  dif- 
ferent person;  a  man  of  rank  and  high  birth, 
whose  friends  good-naturedly  appropriated  the 
same  cap  to  his  use;  but  I  believe  he  had  too 
much  good  sense,  either  to  put  it  on,  or  hand 
it  round  to  his  acquaintance,  to  decide  whe- 
ther it  would  suit  him  or  not. 

At  all  events,  I  really  do  think  that  the 
character  of  Mr.  Burton  Danvers,  faulty  as 
he  may  be,  would  suffer  as  much  by  a  com- 
parison with  many  of  those  who  affect  to  dis- 
like the  resemblance,  as  they  possibly  could,  by 


Vl  PREFACE. 

being  identified  with  Mm.  Burton  Danvers 
is  no  monster  of  virtue — indeed  black  swans, 
though  no  longer  rare  in  ornithology,  are  yet  a 
desideratum  in  the  human  race ;  but  whether  it 
be  with  his  virtues  or  his  foibles,  that  the  gen- 
tleman in  question  has  quarrelled,  there  is  no 
reason  why  he  may  not  sit  down  in  peace 
amongst  the  crowd,  each  of  whom  might  with 
equal  justice  exclaim, 

<f that  was  levelled  at  me." 

I  merely  described  one  of  those  nouveaux  riches 
(whose  heads  are  turned,  like  those  of  aero- 
nauts by  sudden  exaltation,)  characterized  by 
some  of  the  errors  and  extravagances  perfectly 
natural  to  such  a  situation,  and  which  inevitably 
lead  the  very  best  of  them  astray ;  and  I  cannot 
but  think  that  the  moral,  which  is  evident  to 
every  body  capable  of  drawing  an  inference 
from  facts,  might  be  appropriated  and  adopted 
with  infinitely  more  benefit  by  such  persons, 
than  any  thing  likely  to  be  derived  from  the 


PREFACE.  Vll 

vanity  of  supposing  themselves  to  be  subjects 
either  of  public  curiosity  or  critical  animad- 
version. 

I  leave  the  following  stories  to  speak  for  them_ 
selves ;  and,  however  careless  I  may  be  of  the 
past,  I  am  most  anxious  it  should  be  clearly  and 
distinctly  understood,  that  although  I  sketch 
from  nature,  I  am  no  portrait  painter; — and 
that  no  resemblance  is  intended  in  the  follow- 
ing Sketches  to  any  living  individuals.  If  I 
had  the  intention,  I  would  take  special  care 
that  the  likenesses  should  be  sufficiently  striking 
to  admit  of  no  doubt. 

Since  the  world,  however,  is  so  matter-of-fact, 
I  feel  that  I  ought  to  say  one  word  in  explana- 
tion of  a  coincidence  which  occurs  in  one  of  the 
tales  now  published.  I  have  used  a  name  in  it, 
which,  I  have  just  learned,  is  actually  borne  by 
a  most  respectable  family,  inhabiting  the  iden- 
tical village  in  which  my  imaginary  characters 
are  supposed  to  reside.—  I  think  I  need  not  dis- 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

claim  any  intentional  attack  in  this  case;  but, 
lest  I  should  unwittingly  give  a  moment's  un- 
easiness to  individuals  wholly  unknown  to  me, 
I  think  it  "  safest  and  best"  to  explain  the  cir- 
cumstance here. 

London,  Jan.  19,  1825. 


ERRATA. 

VOL.  I.     page  281. 1.7.    for  double  entendre  read  double  entente. 

—  320.  1.  4.    —   papilliotes  —  papillotes. 

VOL.  II.    —  22.     1.5.    —   a  heiress  —  an  heiress. 

—  23.     1.11. — •  continuance  —  a  continuance. 

—  33.     I.  18.  —   extraordinary  —  extraordinarily. 

—  87.     1.  6.    —   will  —  will  not. 

VOL.  III.  —   23.     1.  16.  —  no  — -  nor. 

—  34.    I.  14. —  shortenig  —  shortening. 


THE  SUTHERLANDS 


The  Sutherlands  were  people  of  some  con- 
sequence in  one  of  the  midland  counties — I  am 
now  speaking  of  three  or  four  years  since; 
and  the  family  at  Ringsworth  House  (where 
they  resided  at  the  time  this  narrative  com- 
mences) consisted  of  old  Mrs.  Sutherland,  her 
daughter  Jane,  and  her  sons  George  and  James. 

George  had  then  recently  succeeded  to  the 
valuable  estates  of  his  most  respectable  father, 
who  quietly  reposed  in  Ringsworth  Church, 
beneath  the  very  pew  in  which  he  had  hebdomi- 
nally  slumbered  during  many  years  of  his  ex- 
emplary life  ;  and  James,  who  was  originally  in- 
tended for  the  law,  but  had  latterly  thought  of 
taking  orders,  resided  with  his  mother  and  sister 
at  his  brother's  place. 

They  were,  I  believe,  a  happy,  although  not 
contented   family;    that   is   to  say,   they   were 

VOL.  I.  B 


2  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

happy  amongst  themselves.  The  old  lady  was 
an  excellent  mother,  Jane  an  exemplary  daughter 
and  affectionate  sister,  and  George  and  James 
were  both  rigidly  scrupulous  in  the  fulfilment  of 
every  filial  and  fraternal  duty ;  but  they  were 
nevertheless  dissatisfied  in  different  degrees,  and 
for  different  reasons,  with  the  world. 

In  the  first  place,  Jane  was  plain ;  and  per- 
haps, owing  to  that  very  circumstance,  not  the 
best-tempered  person  imaginable ;  some  said  she 
had  been  crossed  in  love,  and  sure  it  is  that  in 
her  manner  she  was  cold  even  to  freezing :  but 
whether  this  frigidity  was  the  result  of  past  dis- 
appointment, or  simply  constitutional,  I  never 
became  sufficiently  intimate  with  her,  during  a 
twelve  years  acquaintance,  precisely  to  ascer- 
tain. 

George,  who  had  inherited  the  very  fine  pro- 
perty of  his  father,  was  exactly  the  reverse  of 
Jane  in  temperament ;  he  was  the  most  suscep- 
tible creature  upon  earth,  overflowing  with  en- 
thusiasm about  beauty,  and  all  the  witching 
attributes  of  women,  in  expressing  his  admiration 
of  which,  he  was  much  too  free  and  liberal  to 
please  his  icy  sister,  who  affected  to  despise  per- 
sonal   attractions,   and  descanted  continuously 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  3 

upon  intellectual  excellence  and  the  beauties  of 
the  mind. 

Mrs.  Sutherland,  from  her  intimate  know- 
ledge of  her  son's  character  and  constitution, 
frequently  expressed  her  apprehensions  that 
George  would,  upon  some  occasion,  too  suddenly 
surrender  his  heart  in  exchange  for  a  fair  hand, 
and  only  hoped  and  trusted  that  his  extreme 
impetuosity  might  not  involve  him  in  any 
serious  calamity ;  which  apprehension  on  her 
part,  tender  and  maternal  as  it  was,  was  con- 
strued by  her  second  son  James  into  a  dread  of 
innovation,  and  a  fear  that  his  brother  should 
introduce  a  young  Mrs.  Sutherland  to  super- 
sede the  existing  head  of  the  establishment. 
This  was  James's  opinion  of  his  mother's  genu- 
ine anxiety  for  her  volatile  son ;  but  James  was 
a  calculating,  narrow-minded  person,  prone  to 
attribute  the  worst  motives  to  the  best  actions. 
He  was  dissimilar  in  every  point  of  character  to 
George,  who  had  neither  guile  nor  concealment 
in  his  composition,  and  never  feared  or  sus- 
pected either  in  any  body  else ;  he  was  always 
gay,  always  happy,  liberal  to  profusion,  and 
generous  to  excess. 

James,  whose  small  income,  to  be  sure,  justi- 
b2 


4  THE    SUTHERLASDS. 

fied  his  economy,  was  frugal  even  to  parsimony ; 
and  having  been  taught  when  a  child  by  his 
nurse,  that  sixpence  per  day  amounts  to  nine 
pounds  and  half-a-crown  per  annum,  never 
allowed  the  calculation  to  escape  his  memory, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  appeared  constantly  en- 
deavouring to  illustrate  its  excellence  by  his 
conduct. 

While  George  was  roaming  and  roving  about 
the  country,  the  envy  and  delight  of  all  the 
blooming  damsels  in  his  vicinity,  James  had 
coolly  and  deliberately  made  a  "  dead  set"  at  a 
"  fortune ;"  his  pursuit  could  not  even  be  called 
"  fortune-hwiting"  it  was  regular  slaughter — 
killing  the  game  sitting,  without  either  glory  or 
sport.  Many  were  the  times  when  honest, 
open-hearted  George,  rallied  his  wary  brother 
on  the  steady-going  devotion  which  he  paid 
to  Miss  Grace  Lazenby,  a  young  lady  domesti- 
cated in  their  neighbourhood  with  an  elderly 
gentlewoman  of  the  name  of  Trainer,  who  pro- 
fessed to  take  two  or  three  pupils  upon  the  most 
liberal  scale  of  accommodation,  and  the  most 
extravagant  terms. 

With  this  elderly  gentlewoman  Mr.  James 
Sutherland  happened  to  be  a  favourite,  and 
at  he?'  house  many  of  his  evenings  were  passed 


THE    SUTHEKLANDS.  5 

during  those  seasons  when  her  other  protegees 
were  gone  to  their  families,  and  when  Miss 
Lazenby,  whose  father  was  rich  beyond  calcu- 
lation, and  a  Member  of  Council  at  Calcutta, 
remained  at  "  Belmont  Establishment,*"  seeing 
that  she  had  no  relations  in  England  with 
whom  to  pass  the  holidays. 

James  Sutherland,  shortly  after  the  arrival  of 
Miss  Grace  in  the  neighbourhood,  had  pro- 
ceeded to  London  on  the  outside  of  a  stage- 
coach, to  collect  information  as  to  her  father, 
and  learned,  to  his  heart's  content,  that  the 
reports  of  the  old  gentleman's  wealth  were  well- 
founded;  that  Grace  was  actually  his  only 
daughter,  that  her  mother  was  dead,  that  he 
was  very  much  attached  to  his  child,  and  that, 
in  short,  if  he  did  not  die  worth  a  couple  of 
hundred  thousand  pounds,  he  was  very  much 
calumniated  in  regard  to  his  circumstances. 

My  reader  may  perchance  have  seen  a  cat 
set  a  mouse — fix  her  eye  upon  the  poor  little 
harmless  thing — watch  it — never  look  from  it — 
but  sit  ready  to  pounce  down  and  snap  it  up  if 
it  attempted  only  to  wriggle  its  little  tail.  So 
sat  James  Sutherland,  and  watched  Grace  La- 
zenby : — with  the  same  care,  the  same  assiduity, 
and  with  the  same  hope — did  the  young  aspirant 


6  THE    SUTHERLAXDS. 

to  wealth  and  contentment,  apply  himself  to  the 
movements  of  his  intended  prize. 

It  was  upon  his  return  from  London  that  he 
commenced  the  systematic  siege :  and  though 
neither  of  the  parties  were  talkative,  and  some- 
times the  whole  evening  would  pass  away  with- 
out any  conversation  at  all,  still  he  read  up,  to 
make  himself  interesting  in  the  eyes  of  his  Dul- 
cinea  by  a  knowledge  of  India  and  Indian  cus- 
toms, until  he  was  able  to  navigate  the  Ganges 
with  her  from  Bally  Xuggur  to  Chandpoorah, 
and  from  Sickery  Gully  even  up  to  Futtygur, 
as  correctlv  as  if  he  had  been  smoking  his 
chilum  in  her  illustrious  father's  budgerow. 

George,  in  the  mean  while,  had  announced  his 
intention  of  visiting  Leamington,  and  pressed 
James  to  accompany  him  thither ;  but  neither 
the  attractions  of  the  Spa,  nor  the  still  greater 
inducement  of  being  franked  by  his  brother 
during  his  >tay  there,  could  allure  the  persever- 
ing lover  from  "  Belmont  Establishment,'1  and 
the  fair  object  of  his  prudent  adoration.  George, 
therefore,  went  alone,  and  some  weeks  had 
elapsed  after  his  departure,  before  he  even  pro- 
posed returning;  and  when  the  day  had  been 
twice  fixed,  and  the  return  twice  delayed,  his 


THE    SUTHERLA.NDS.  7 

mother  began  to  feel  a  little  apprehensive  that 
her  long-cherished  fears  with  regard  to  his 
acknowledged  susceptibility  were  about  to  be 
realized  : — a  third  time  he  was  by  his  own  ap- 
pointment expected  at  Ringsworth.  Jane  kept 
perpetually  straining  her  dull  grey  eyes  from 
the  windows  of  the  library  towards  a  point  in 
the  distance,  where  the  undulations  of  the 
country  afforded  them  a  view  of  the  high  road  : 
but  all  in  vain.  The  first  dinner-bell  was  rung 
— no  George;  the  second  dinner-bell — no  George 
— half  an  hour's  law — (unusual  grace  in  a  family 
so  regular) — was  allowed — alas !  all  to  no  pur- 
pose,— still  the  wished-for  member  of  the  circle 
was  absent.  Evening  came,  and  Jane  covered 
up  her  moping  Java  sparrows  with  the  accus- 
tomed green  baize — and  made  her  weak-eyed 
poodle's  bed — and  still  no  George.  James  re- 
turned from  "  Belmont  Establishment,"  and 
kindly  contributed  his  gloomy  surmises  and 
apprehensions  to  the  general  stock,  and  the 
family  retired  to  rest,  wondering  what  on  earth 
could  have  happened  to  the  roving  "  Squire." 

The  season  of  doubt,  however,  was  brief. 
The  following  morning  brought  intelligence 
exactly  such  as  his  anxious  mother  had  always 


8  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

anticipated.  It  was  announced  that  he  had  en- 
gaged himself  to  be  married  to  Miss  Emily  Bus- 
bridge,  a  young  lady,  who,  by  his  account  of  her, 
was  the  most  beautiful,  most  fascinating,  and 
most  amiable  creature  in  all  the  known  world. 

"  I  knew  it,"  said  his  aged  parent,  laying 
down  his  letter :  "  now,  Jane,  what  do  you  say  ? 
did  I  not  judge  his  disposition  accurately?1' 

"  The  name,"  said  Jane,  "  does  not  sound 
aristocratic :  however,  I  shall  be  perfectly  satis- 
fied if  she  have  but  a  mind  and  a  heart." 

"  And  a  fortune,"  said  James. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  not  care  for  that,  if  she  be  but 
companionable,"  said  Jane. 

u  Companionable !"  exclaimed  her  brother. 
u  Of  course,  my  dear  child,  she  will  not  be  a 
companion  for  us ;  you  will  find  that  we  must 
retire  and  leave  her  and  George  in  possession  of 
Ringsworth." 

Jane  expressed  her  doubt  by  a  humming  noise, 
which  I  cannot  attempt  to  describe,  but  which 
was  quite  understood. 

"  There  can  be  none,"  continued  James  :  "  it 
is  true,  /  may  hang  on,  as  long  as  I  continue 
single,  and  it  will  be  convenient,  and  perhaps 
better,  that  I  should,  for  it  will  save  the  expense 


THE    SUTHEltLANDS.  9 

of  an  establishment ;  but  depend  upon  it,  George 
will  not,  and  if  he  would,  his  lady  will  not, 
allow  his  mother  and  sister  to  reside  in  her 
house." 

"  I  dare  say  you  are  right,"  said  his  mother ; 
"  it  is  quite  the  way  of  the  world,  James;  as  the 
old  proverb  tells  us: 

*  My  son  is  my  son  till  he  gets  hirn  a  wife ; 
My  daughter's  my  daughter  all  days  of  her  life.' 

However,  this  world  is  but  a  transitory  one ;  we 
all  have  our  turns,  and  I  must  make  way  for 
others,  as  others  made  way  for  me.  I  have 
always  intended  whenever  this  event  should 
take  place,  as  I  clearly  foresaw  it  would,  to 
retire  to  Bath  with  Jane,  and  there  we  must 
make  ourselves  as  happy  as  we  can." 

"  I  wonder  what  sort  of  girl  she  is,"  sighed 
Jane. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  has  much  money,"  mur- 
mured James. 

"  I  hope  she  is  amiable,"  said  the  mother. 

"  I  trust  she  will  be  prudent,"  said  the  son. 

"  I  think  she  must  be  intellectual,"  ejaculated 
his  sister  ;  "  George  would  not  marry  any  body 
very  silly." 

B5 


10  THE    5UTHERLANDS. 

"  When  is  the  ceremony  to  take  place  ?"  en- 
quired James. 

"  I  suspect  it  is  over ;"  said  Mrs.  Sutherland, 
"  he  writes,  as  if  he  were  married,  but  yet 
surely  he  would  at  least  have  made  us  acquainted 
with  his  bride  before  he  irrevocably  constituted 
her  one  of  his  family."" 

In  such  consultations  as  these  much  time 
was  consumed,  which  might  have  been  spared ; 
for  it  turned  out  that  Miss  Busbridge  actually 
became  Mrs.  Sutherland  on  the  ninth  day  of 
George's  acquaintance  with  her. 

He  first  saw  her  at  a  ball,  where  she  seemed 
the  magnet  of  attraction.  Lordlings  and  lan- 
cers, the  gayest  of  the  gay,  were  in  her  train, 
and  hovering  round  her  as  flies  congregate 
about  sugar :  he  enquired  her  name ;  grew  un- 
easy at  the  attentions  which  were  paid  to  her 
by  a  tall  gentleman  in  stockinet  pantaloons ; 
worried  himself  into  a  fever  about  her  ;  got  in- 
troduced by  the  master  of  the  ceremonies ; 
danced  with  her ;  made  himself  extremely 
agreeable;  pushed  the  acquaintance  in  a 
waltz,  as  far  as  he  decently  could ;  found 
her  all  soul  and  sensibility,  all  gentleness  and 
feeling  ;     continued     the     intoxicating     whirl 


THE    SUTHERLAND S.  11 

until  she  grew  giddy ;  she  complained  of  her 
head  ;  leaned  heavily  on  his  arm  for  support ; 
begged  to  be  taken  to  her  aunt ;  and  when 
George  had  acceded  to  her  request,  immediately 
introduced  him  to  that  portly  and  particularly 
well-dressed  lady,  Mrs.  Malooney. 

From  this  moment  he  devoted  himself  to 
Emily — his  dear  Emily — his  bright-eyed  Emily 
— his  downy-cheeked  Emily,  goaded  by  the  oc- 
casional smiles  she  bestowed  upon  her  various 
sighing  cavaliers,  and  driven  still  harder  by 
the  information  she  herself  gave  him,  that  her 
aunt  Malooney  had  expressed  an  intention  of 
forcing  her  into  a  match  with  the  tall  gentleman 
from  Cork,  in  the  stockinet  pantaloons,  who  was 
the  said  Mrs.  Malooney 's  nephew.  This  little 
history,  added  to  the  intelligence  that  she  would 
rather  die  than  marry  the  said  tall  gentle- 
man, forced  our  impetuous  hero  into  that  most 
decisive  measure  which  he  had  announced  to 
his  family,  as  we  have  already  seen,  somewhat 
suddenly. 

The  girl,  who  seemed  all  candour,  evinced, 
by  her  unreserved  manner  to  George,  an  un- 
questionable degree  of  pleasure  and  satisfaction 
in  his  society ;  and   such  was   the  amiable   in- 


12  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

genuousness  of  the  sweet  young  creature,  that 
three  days  after  their  first  meeting,  she  actually 
burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  at  hearing  of  his 
wealth  and  property,  fearing,  as  she  said,  that 
they  would  be  insuperable  bars  to  their  farther 
acquaintance. 

Oh  !  those  tears,  those  plaguy  tears — what 
mischief  they  do!  His  heart  palpitated  at 
the  sight  of  them.  He  felt  half  wild  with  the 
idea  that  so  much  beauty,  so  much  unsophis- 
tication  should  at  once  have  become  thus  deeply 
interested  for  him ;  and  when  she  turned  from 
his  scrutinizing  glance,  and,  raising  her  be- 
witching countenance  and  melting  eyes  towards 
heaven,  murmured — "  What  would  I  give  that 
we  had  never  met !"  it  was  all  over — the  thing 
was  settled. 

Here  was  a  lovely  creature,  with  cheeks 
like  maiden-blush  roses,  downy  as  peaches, 
eyes  like  diamonds,  and  teeth  like  pearls,  by 
turns  all  softness  and  animation,  with  features 
full  of  the  sweetest  expression,  a  figure  all 
symmetry,  and  a  mind  all  sensibility.  Here, 
too,  was  George,  who,  like  Caesar,  had  come, 
had  seen,  and  evidently  had  conquered  ;  and  it 


the  Sutherland's.  13 

was  clear,  not  only  to  himself,  but  to  Mrs.  Ma- 
looney  and  the  tall  gentleman  in  the  stockinet 
pantaloons,  that  it  was  "  une  affair ejinie." 

George,  in  the  ardour  of  his  enthusiasm, 
opened  his  whole  heart  to  Mrs.  Malooney,  who 
received  his  overtures  with  great  complacency, 
eulogized  Emily,  as  the  most  angelic  person  upon 
earth,  "  quite  a  treasure  ;"  expatiated  upon  the 
sacrifice  she  should  make  in  relinquishing  her 
dear  companion ;  she  had  known  her  from  a 
child ;  never  was  such  a  disposition,  such  a  heart, 
&c.  &c. — in  short,  so  devoted  was  she  to  the 
dear  creature,  that  she  could  not  endure  the 
society  of  any  other  female ;  which  George  in- 
clined to  think  extremely  probable,  for,  ex- 
cept in  public  rooms,  he  never  saw  any  ladies 
with  his  dear  Emily  and  her  amiable  chaperone. 
However,  Mrs.  Malooney  described  her  as  per- 
fect. She  was  poor,  she  admitted, — but  what  of 
that  ?  George  had  plenty  of  money,  and,  mad- 
dened by  the  intelligence  that  she  was  actually 
beset  by  admirers,  and  persecuted  with  pro- 
posals, he  concluded  the  treaty  by  an  offer  of 
his  hand  and  heart;  and,  much  to  his  gratifica- 
tion and  delight,  Miss  Emily  Busbridge  sur- 


14  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

rendered  herself  and  all  her  attractions  to  her 
devoted  adorer  at  one  of  the  churches  of  War- 
wick, as  I  have  before  mentioned,  on  the  ninth 
morning  of  their  acquaintance. 

Mrs.  Malooney,  and  her  tall  friend  in  the 
stockinet  pantaloons,  however,  left  Leamington 
before  the  ceremony,  which  would  perhaps 
have  surprised  George  had  not  the  old  lady 
explained  to  him  that  she  thought  it  not  at 
all  impossible,  if  she  delayed  her  departure, 
that  her  tall  friend  in  the  stockinets  might 
offer  something  like  a  remonstrance  against  the 
match  :  having  done  so,  George  was  quite 
charmed  with  the  old  gentlewoman's  care  and 
consideration  of  his  dearest  interests,  and  felt 
that  she  exhibited  altogether  so  much  kindness 
in  her  conduct  towards  him,  that  she  entirely 
won  his  heart,  and  having  previously  to  her  de- 
parture presented  her  with  a  magnificent  set  of 
amethysts,  for  which  she  had  chanced  to  express 
great  admiration,  the  ardent  youth  conveyed 
his  lovely  blushing  prize  to  a  sweet  and  care- 
fully selected  seclusion,  where  he  devoted  him- 
self to  her  bewitching  society,  and  all  the  joy- 
ous world-defying  pleasures  of  the  honey-moon. 

George,   it  must  be  understood,   warm  and 


THE    SUTHEItLANDS.  15 

enthusiastic  as  he  was,  was  clever  and  intelli- 
gent ;  and  if  his  judgment  were  blinded  by  the 
dazzling  splendor  of  Miss  Emily's  charms, 
yet,  as  he  became  by  degrees  more  and  more 
accustomed  to  their  radiance,  so  did  his  "  mind's 
eye"  gradually  perceive  things  more  clearly  ; 
and  on  the  third  day  of  his  domestication  at 
Eglantine  Cottage,  (for  so  was  the  ready-fur- 
nished harbour  of  love  and  happiness  denomi- 
nated by  the  landlord,  a  respectable  tallow- 
chandler)  he  began  to  fear  that  his  bride's 
manners  were,  perhaps,  a  little  less  fine,  and 
a  little  more  abrupt,  than  they  had  at  first 
appeared  to  be :  she  contradicted  him  most 
decidedly,  and  most  unceremoniously ;  and 
even  went  so  far  as  openly  to  declare  that  she 
found  their  "  bower  of  bliss"  "  uncommon 
stupid,"  and  to  propose  a  speedy  return  to  the 
gaieties  of  more  general  society. 

George,  who  was  a  devoted  son,  immediately 
seized  upon  this  expression  of  her  desire  to 
change  the  scene,  as  a  favourable  circumstance 
whereon  to  found  a  proposal  for  taking  her 
home  to  Ringsworth  ;  a  measure  which  she, 
by  the  way,  did  not  appear  in  the  smallest 
degree  to  approve.     She  had  all  along  evinced 


16  THE    SUTHE11LANDS. 

the  greatest  disinclination  from  being  intro- 
duced to  her  husband's  mother  and  sister, 
which  he,  kind  soul,  naturally  attributed  to 
diffidence,  to  the  delicacy  of  her  situation  under 
the  circumstances,  and  that  sensitive  modesty, 
which,  in  spite  of  the  ridicule  and  ribaldry  of 
learned  ladies,  makes  beauty  doubly  winning, 
and  talent  twice  bewitching. 

George,  however,  pressed  his  wishes  upon 
this  particular  point  so  earnestly  and  strenu- 
ously, that  she  found  any  farther  resistance 
would  be  unavailing;  and  accordingly  it  was 
arranged,  that  at  the  end  of  the  following  week 
he  should  present  the  blushing  bride  to  his 
expectant  family. 

After  George  and  his  beloved  had  been 
married  some  eight  or  nine  days,  the  husband 
expressed  his  surprise  that  his  beloved  Emily 
had  not  written  to  the  kind  good-hearted  Mrs. 
Malooney,  since  her  departure  from  Leam- 
ington. 

"  La !"  said  Emily,  "  as  if  I  had  not— why  I 
have  written  to  her  twice  since  she  has  been 
away." 

"  I  never  saw  your  letters,  my  love— "  said 
George. 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  17 

"  No,  I  should  not  think  you  did,*  replied 
the  bride — "  I  always  keep  my  letters  to  my- 
self. Tracy,  my  maid,  always  puts  them  into 
the  post  for  me.  You  don't  think  I  am  such 
a  fool  as  to  trust  strangers — " 

"  I  am  no  stranger,  dearest,"  soothingly  mur- 
mured her  devoted  George. 
"  No,  you  are  no  stranger." 
"  And  moreover  I  do  happen  to  be  your 
husband,  into  the  bargain,"  added  he,  half 
pettishly,  and  feeling,  if  the  truth  must  be 
spoken,  somewhat  grieved  at  seeing  that  his 
adored  partner  preferred  Tracy  as  a  confidante 
to  himself. — "  I  know,  however,  that  you  have 
not  heard  from  your  Aunt." 

"  Oh  !  but  I  have,"  said  Emily,  "  twice." 
u  You  never  mentioned  it  to  me." 
"  I  did  not  know  you  wanted  to  know." 
"  But  I  have  seen  no  letter  for  you." 
"  No,    to   be   sure,  Tracy   always   gets   my 
letters ;  because,  as  I  said  before,  I  don't  want 
everybody  to  know  my  business." 

"  Umph,"  said  George  ;  and  he  rose  from 
his  chair,  and  walked  to  a  window,  not  quite 
so  well  satisfied  with  the  point  of  this  little 
dialogue. 


18  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

"  My  father  is  coming  over  to  England  al- 
most directly,"  said  Emily  carelessly. 

This  was,  indeed,  the  tenderest  of  tender 
ground.  George  had  only  heard  the  name  of 
that  respected  personage  mentioned  once  be- 
fore ;  he  knew  that  he  held  some  important 
situation  in  a  foreign  country,  but,  as  Mrs. 
Malooney  had  hinted  that  the  lovely  girl  was 
not  on  the  best  terms  with  her  parent,  he  had 
studiously  avoided  in  his  leisure  to  make  such 
enquiries  upon  this  very  important  point,  as 
he  had  overlooked  in  his  haste. 

"  Is  he?"  said  George. 

"  Yes ;  Mrs.  Malooney  tells  *ne  he  h»^ 
given  up  his  office  abroad,"  said  Emily. 

"  What — might — that — have— been  ?"  en- 
quired George,  with  a  trepidation  proportionate 
to  the  importance  of  the  question. 

"  He  was  appointed  Surveyor  General  of 
Poyais,"  said  Emily. 

"  Ah  !  I  believe  that  has  been  rather  an 
unfortunate  speculation, "  said  George. 

"  I  believe  so  too,"  answered  his  lady,  "  but 
you  see,  there  's  a  lot  of  us  in  family,  and  he 
embarked  in  the  expedition  with  great  promises 
from    Edinburgh;    and   one   reason   why    my 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  19 

father  and  I  quarrelled,  was  his  not  taking  me 
with  him,  for  he  said  I  should  do  better  at 
home.  However,  as  it  has  turned  out,  it  's  all 
for  the  best.'1 

This  mode  of  referring  to  the  extent  of  her 
family,  the  language  adopted  in  that  reference, 
the  equivocal  state  of  her  father's  circumstances, 
and,  above  all,  the  extraordinary  way  in  which 
she  alluded  to  her  marriage  with  her  devoted 
lover,  were  any  thing  but  satisfactory  to  George; 
indeed,  such  was  his  feeling  at  the  moment,  that 
he  dreaded  to  seek  any  farther,  and  purposely 
changed  the  conversation,  in  order  that  he  might 
remain  in  that  blissful  ignorance,  the  enlighten- 
ment of  which,  he,  with  the  Poet,  seemed  to 
think  would  have  been  folly.  It  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  the  appearance  of  things  was  not 
quite  unsullied;  however,  the  matter  was  set- 
tled, the  bargain  concluded,  and  the  wisest 
thing  he  could  now  do,  was  to  make  the  best  of 
it.  Even  supposing  her  father  had  been  indis- 
creet— "  nemo  mortalium,:'  &c. — even  suppos- 
ing him  to  be  poor,  George  had  sufficient  to 
ensure  his  happiness,  and  that  of  his  adored 
Emily,  and  what  more  was  wanting?  and  in 
this  manner  he  went  on  soothing  and  satisfying 


20  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

himself  that  he  had  most  wisely  consulted  his 
comfort,  and  acted  most  prudently  in  connecting 
himself  with  the  numerous  and  respectable  fa- 
mily of  the  Busbridges. 

George  having  duly  announced  his  intention 
of  presenting  himself  before  his  respected  and 
respectable  parent  on  the  Thursday  following, 
made  all  the  proper  and  necessary  preparation 
for  removing  his  blooming  treasure.  His  own 
man  and  Mrs.  Tracy  (who  was  a  smart,  arch- 
looking,  bright-eyed  Irish  girl,  pert,  humorous, 
and  mightily  familiar)  being  in  due  form  packed 
and  installed  in  and  about  his  travelling  car- 
riage, the  bridal  party  moved  homewards ; 
Dixon  the  servant,  and  Tracy  the  soubrette, 
imitating,  as  I  believe,  in  the  minutest  particu- 
lars, the  conduct  of  their  master  and  mistress 
upon  this  memorable  expedition. 

The  interesting  moment  at  length  arrived; 
the  equipage  of  George  Sutherland,  Esq.  was 
seen  from  the  front  windows  of  Ringsworth  ra- 
pidly traversing  the  sweep  from  the  ancient 
gates  of  his  paternal  domain.  James  Suther- 
land proceeded  to  the  hall-door,  and,  summoning 
all  the  disposable  domestics  to  welcome  their 
master  and   mistress,   stood  uncovered   on  the 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  21 

steps  to  receive  the  happy  couple.  Jane  ran  to 
a  looking-glass  and  adjusted  her  frill,  twisted 
her  limp  ringlets  round  her  long  pale  fingers 
into  apologies  for  curls,  bit  her  white  lips  to 
give  them  a  "  little  red,"  and  smoothing  her 
scant  eyebrows,  prepared  to  dress  her  counte- 
nance in  smiles.  Her  mother  laid  down  the 
book  she  had  been  reading,  and,  depositing  her 
spectacles  thereon,  rose  from  her  seat,  and 
dusted  away,  as  it  were,  from  the  folds  of  her 
ample  black  silk  gown,  sundry  furrows  of  snuff, 
which  had  gradually  accumulated  in  her  lap  in 
the  course  of  a  long  morning's  sederunt 

She  advanced  a  few  steps  from  the  place 
where  she  had  been  sitting,  and  received  from 
the  hand  of  her  son  James  into  her  embrace  the 
wife  of  her  son  George ;  who  having,  in  the 
first  place,  saluted  the  cold  lips  of  his  cowslip- 
coloured  sister,  succeeded  to  the  arms  of  his 
mother,  while  Emily  received  the  accolade  from 
Jane. 

"  My  dear  daughter-in-law/'  said  Mrs.  Su- 
therland, who  was  really  prepossessed  in  her  fa- 
vour by  her  appearance,  "  you  are  welcome  to 
Rings  worth ;  long  may  you  enjoy  the  blessings  of 
this  world  under  its  roof,  and  may  your  life  and 


22  THE    SUTHERLAtfDS. 

that  of  your  dear  George,  be  as  happy  and  as  sa- 
tisfactory to  yourselves  and  your  family,  as  mine 
has  been  heretofore  in  the  same  spot  with  him, 
now  gone  to  a  better  place  !" 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am,11  said  the  blushing 
Emily,  "  I  dare  say  we  shall  do  uncommon 
well:' 

James  screwed  up  his  mouth  and  looked  at 
Jane,  whose  mouth  was  screwed  up  already. 

"  We  are  determined  to  look  at  the  bright 
side  of  every  thing,"  said  George,  who  saw  in  a 
moment,  however  amicable  his  mother's  manner 
or  intentions  might  be,  that  the  younger  branches 
of  the  family  had  made  up  their  minds  to  a 
totally  different  line  of  conduct. 

"  Jane,  my  love,"  said  the  matron,  "  do  the 
honours ;  shew  your  sister-in-law  her  room.  And 
do  you,  James,  ring  for  Evans,  who  will  give 
Mrs.  George  Sutherland's  maid  the  carte  du  pay. 

"  The  what,  ma'am  ?"  said  Emily,  whose  pa- 
rents thought  with  Milton,  that  one  tongue  was 
enough  for  a  woman,  and  had  taught  her  no 
more. 

"  She  will  shew  your  maid  your  dressing- 
room,  my  love,"  said  Mrs.  Sutherland. 

"  Oh  !  I  beg  your  pardon,  ma'am,"  answered 
Mrs.  George. 


THE    SUTHERLANDS. 


"  This  way  then,  my  dear  sister,"  cried  Jane 
to  the  new  comer,  and  taking  her  sororially  by 
the  hand,  she  led  her  forth  from  the  oak  par- 
lour to  the  principal  bedchamber,  Mrs.  Suther- 
land having,  with  the  foresight  of  a  prudential 
lady,  removed  from  her  own  apartment  to  ano- 
ther, as  a  minister  who  sees  the  certainty  of 
approaching  dismissal,  takes  the  most  favourable 
opportunity  of  resigning. 

"  Well,  James,*"  said  George,  "  and  how  do 
you  make  it  out  ?" 

"  Much  as  usual,  George,"  said  James,  "  to 
be  sure  I  have  not  gone  quite  so  far  as  you, 
but" 

"  Ay,  by  the  way,  how  is  the  little  Grace  ?" 

"  As  calm,  and  as  cold,  and  as  quiet  as  ever,1' 
said  James. 

"  Not  married  yet  ?"  asked  George. 

"  I  suspect  the  flame  is  hardly  strong  enough, 
George,"  said  Mrs.  Sutherland. 

"  You  have  beaten  me  in  your  pretensions  to 
beauty,  George,"  said  James. 

"  You  think  Emily  pretty  ?" 

"  I  think  her  remarkably  pretty,"  said  Mrs. 
Sutherland. 

"  Rather  too  animated  for  me,  you  know," 
observed  James. 


24  THE'SLTHERLANDS. 

"  Young  and  wild/'  answered  George,  "  but 
the  best-tempered  creature  upon  earth." 

"  Grace,"  whispered  James,  "  expects  her  fa- 
ther home  from  India  almost  immediately,  and 
then,  my  boy  !" 

"  WeU  ?" 

"  He  has  two  hundred  thousand  pounds  in 
the  funds,  and  no  child  but  my  Grace/' 

"My  Grace !"  said  George—"  Oh,  oh  !  it  has 
got  that  length,  has  it  ?" 

"  I  believe,"  said  Mrs.  Sutherland,  "  that 
Grace  Lazenby  is  as  much  attached  to  James 
as  she  can  be  to  any  thing.  I  certainly  never 
saw  a  creature  of  my  own  sex  so  provokingly,  so 
icily  cold ;  she  moves  so  mechanically,  acts  so 
systematically,  and  affects  a  tone  of  philosophy 
far  beyond  her  age." 

"  Ah !  my  dear  mother,'1  said  George,  in  re- 
ference to  a  past  affair,  and  in  vindication  of  the 
levity  of  his  bride,  from  which  he  anticipated 
many  severe  shocks  to  the  family  nerves,  "  the 
silent  and  grave,  the  prim  and  the  prudish,  are, 
in  truth,  not  one  whit  better  than  the  free- 
hearted laughers.  I  always  suspect,  where  I  see 
unnatural  pretensions ;  I  always  doubt,  when  I 
hear  uncalled-for  professions;    and  I   dare  say 


THE    SUTHERLAMDS.  25 

there  is  but  little  real  difference,  if  we  could 
read  hearts,  between  my  joyous  rosy-cheeked 
Emily,  and  James's  little  pale,  phlegmatic,  pla- 
tonic,  prudish  Miss  Grace  Lazenby."" 

"  No  satire,  George,"  cried  his  brother ; 
"  we  have  always  differed  in  our  notions  of 
beauty  and  attraction.  I  cannot  endure  your 
dashers, — they  are  my  horror ;  give  me  the  re- 
tiring modesty,  the  winning  downcast  diffidence, 
the  charms  that  must  be  sought.  My  heart  is 
not  to  be  taken  by  storm — but  a  truce,  here 
are  the  sisters." 

And  hand-in-hand  entered  forthwith  Mrs. 
George  Sutherland  and  Jane.  She  had  not 
made  much  progress,  however,  with  her  new 
acquaintance  ;  for  Emily,  by  an  untoward  want 
of  consideration,  had  commenced  her  intercourse 
with  her  sister-in-law  by  an  animated  and  highly 
wrought  attack  upon  old  maids  and  virgins 
crossed  in  love,  meaning  thereby  to  show  the 
vivaciousness  of  her  conversational  talent ;  but, 
unfortunately,  striking  at  every  word  a  dagger 
into  the  still-aching  heart  of  poor  Jane. 

Upon  their  return  to  the  oak  parlour,  Emily's 
answers  to  her  mother-in-law's  questions  were 
sharp  and  quick,  and  now  and  then  had  in  their 
vol.  i.  c 


26  THE    SUTHERLAXDS. 

character  something  perhaps  undefinable,  but 
which  brought  the  eyes  of  Jane  and  James  per- 
petually in  contact.  Nor  was  this  telegraphing 
wholly  unnoticed  by  George,  who  felt  rather 
uneasy  at  the  volubility  of  his  careless  wife, 
which,  accustomed  as  he  had  always  been  to 
address  his  mother  in  a  tone  of  deference  and 
respect,  kept  his  blood  mounting  continuously 
into  his  cheeks,  and  his  heart  constantly  palpi- 
tating during  the  rest  of  the  conversation ;  but 
my  reader  may  judge  what  his  sensations  were, 
when,  after  looking  for  some  moments  at  the 
portrait  of  a  gentleman,  which  hung  over  the 
chimney-piece,  the  lively  bride  enquired  "  who 
that  horrid  old  fright  was  ?" 

Jane  burst  into  tears  and  retired — George 
caught  his  bride  by  the  arm  and  drew  her  to  a 
window — James  tendered  his  support  to  his 
agitated  mother,  and  led  her  out  of  the  apart- 
ment, the  old  lady  having  previously  blown  her 
nose  twice  sonorously,  after  the  fashion  of  His 
Majesty's  ships,  which,  upon  certain  occasions, 
fire  signal-guns  previously  to  sailing. 

"  Why, they  are  all  gone,  George,"  said  Emily. 

"  Yes,  my  angel/'  answered  George  kindly, 
yet  sorrowfully ;   you  have  driven  them  away  ; 


THE    SUTHER LANDS.  27 

you  should  not  have  spoken  so  abruptly  about 
that  picture,  it  is  the  likeness  of  my  poor  fa- 
ther !" 

"  Lord  bless  us  !"  cried  Emily,  "  and  that 's 
it,  is  it  ?  What  !  do  they  keep  crying  all  this 
time  about  him  ?  Well,  but,"  continued  she, 
returning  to  the  portrait ;  "he  is  an  old  quiz, 
you  must  allow  that,  George." 

George  said  nothing,  in  hopes  that  silence 
would  best  mark  his  disapprobation  of  the  mode 
in  which  his  adored  wife  treated  the  topic  ;  but 
he  felt,  and  felt  deeply  too,  that  a  few  events 
similar  to  that  which  had  just  occurred,  would 
inevitably  drive  his  venerable  venerated  parent 
and  her  sensitive  daughter  from  Ringsworth 
for  ever.  Indeed,  after  the  family  had  separ- 
ated, in  order  to  dress  for  dinner,  the  original 
members  of  it,  met  in  close  divan,  to  know  how 
they  should  comport  themselves  towards  their 
new  connexion ;  the  result  of  which  congress  was 
an  unanimous  declaration  of  their  forgiveness  of 
a  piece  of  thoughtless  levity  on  the  part  of  the 
giddy  girl ;  and  every  allowance  being  pleaded 
for  her  single-heartedness  and  ingenuousness,  it 
was  determined  that  no  allusion  whatever  should 
again  be  made  to  the  disagreeable  subject ;  and 

c2 


28  THE    SUTHERLAND*. 

as  after  dinner  they  should  be  assembled  in  the 
blue  drawing-room,  where  the  fatal  object  was 
not,  a  peaceful  evening  was  anticipated  by  all 
parties. 

Dinner  put  down,  and  Mrs.  George  seated 
at  table  between  her  mother-in-law  and  brother- 
in-law,  looking  extremely  pretty,  but  making 
somewhat  more  of  a  display  of  her  person  than 
Miss  Sutherland,  (who  was  muffled  and  ruffled 
up  to  the  chin,  and  had  no  display  to  make) 
accounted  necessary,  imagine  what  the  feelings 
of  that  young  lady  and  her  brother  James  were, 
when  they  beheld  their  new  relation  abso- 
lutely eating  fish  with  her  knife  !  Their  hor- 
ror, however,  was  complete,  when,  in  addition 
to  two  or  three  glasses  of  Champagne,  they 
literally  saw  her  discuss  two  Brobdignagian 
tumblers  of  home-brewed  October  ale,  which 
tumblers  she  left  perfectly  prepared  for  the 
trial  "  supernaculum." 

Jane  absolutely  stared  at  her,  while  James 
slily  and  silently  made  his  comments.  Jane 
looked  at  the  impropriety  and  unsentimentality 
of  her  behaviour;  James  calculated  upon  its 
extravagance :  and  George,  who  did  not  know 
how  to  give  her  a  hint,   as  to  restraining  her 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  29 

appetites,  felt  more  awkward  than  he  had  ex- 
pected to  feel,  on  the  occasion  of  his  wife's 
debut  at  Ringsworth. 

But,  reader,  if  you  had  only  seen  the  counte- 
nance of  Carr  the  butler,  when  his  new  mistress, 
after  drinking  more  Champagne  than  he  had  ever 
seen  his  old  mistress  consume  during  the  whole 
course  of  her  exemplary  life,  dashed  away  the 
flowing  ringlets  from  her  snowy  forehead,  and 
called  for  "  Some  more  ale f  you  would  have 
died  with  laughing. 

"  Ale  !  madam, — A— I— e  ?"  said  Carr,  slowly 
and  enquiringly  ;  and  shrugging  up  his  shoulders 
in  utter  dismay,  he  retired  to  the  sideboard, 
and  transmitted  the  foaming  goblet  to  the  giddy 
girl  by  the  hands  of  a  livery  servant,  as  if 
dreading  to  administer  the  copious  draught 
himself. 

When  the  ladies  retired,  the  brothers  were 
left  to  a  tete-a-tete,  and  to  speak  truth,  neither 
of  them  well  knew  how  to  commence  a  conver- 
sation, which  evidently  must  turn  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  George's  marriage. 

James  arranged  his  glass,  and  affected  not  to 
know  whether  the  claret  was  u  with  hinC  or  his 
brother.     However,   at  length,  and  after  a  pro- 


30  THE    SUTHERLAXDS. 

tracted  and  somewhat  fidgety  silence,  George 
broke  the  ice  by  enquiring  if  James  were  going 
to  see  his  beloved  Grace  that  evening. 

"  Yes,"  said  James ;  "  her  tender  little  heart 
would  be  pained  if  I  failed  to  call." 

"  Pray  now,  James,"  said  his  brother,  "  to  be 
candid,  because  I  am  sure  you  don't  care  three 
straws  about  the  girl — have  you  positively  ascer- 
tained her  fortune  ?" 

"  My  dear  George,"  replied  James,  "  you 
little  know  me,  if  you  suppose  that  I  ever  expect- 
ed wealth  to  compensate  for  the  absence  of  good 
feelings  and  estimable  qualities ;  and  before  I 
answer  your  question  about  Grace's  property,  let 
me  make  you  perfectly  understand,  that  if  she 
had  not  one  single  shilling  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth,  I  should  feel  precisely  the  same  interest, 
and  precisely  the  same  affection  for  her,  which 
I  honestly  confess  I  feel  at  this  moment." 

"  James,"  cried  George,  "  we  have  known 
each  other  for  a  certain  number  of  years,  and  I 
know  such  a  little  dowdy  as  Grace  Lazenby, 

would  have  no  more  chance  with  you " 

"  Dowdy  ! — keep  terms,  keep  termr,  Master 
George  :"  said  James,  "  she  is  no  maypole,  I 
grant  you,  but  what  then? — don't  you  know  the 


THE    SUTHEHLANDS.  31 

established  principle,  upon  which,  men  are  said 
lo  admire  that,  which  they  look  up  to,  and  love 
that  which  they  look  down  upon.'" 

"  Very  prettily  argued  indeed,  my  ingenious 
brother ;  but  a  bad  excuse  nevertheless:  besides, 
the  poor  creature  is  not  straight  \n 

"  Straight !  what  then  ?"  cried  James  ;  "  did 
you  never  hear  of  the  line  of  beauty — is  that 
straight  ?  moreover  I  have  actually  the  authority 
of  one  of  the  first  surgeons  in  London,  to  prove 
that  not  one  woman  in  ten  in  this  happy  country 
of  ours,  is  perfectly  straight.  Besides  which,  you 
talk  of  nothing  but  her  person,  while  I  am  con- 
sidering her  intellect,  her  heart,  her  mind." 

"  That  is  your  sister  Jane's  cant !"  said  George. 
u-  Mind,  intellect,  heart, — what  has  mind  to  do 
with  it  ?  the  only  accomplishments  I  ever  saw 
in  Grace  Lazenby,  were  speaking  some  half  score 
unintelligible  Hindostanee  words,  cracking  her 
joints,  and  doubling  her  fingers  over  the  back 
of  her  hand." 

"  Come  come,  I  called  you  to  order  before 
dinner,"  said  James,  "for  being  severe  upon 
Grace." 

"  Inaptly  named,  you  will  admit,  at  all  events,'' 
interrupted  George. 


32  THE    SUTHEBLANDS. 

"  Well,  but  George,"  said  James,  t(  I  really 
am  anxious,  however  open  to  criticism  Grace 
may  be,  that  above  all  men  you  should  see  her 
with  favourable  eyes." 

"  So  I  would,  my  dear  James/'  said  George, 
"  if  you  would  but  confess  openly  and  candidly 
that  you  are  inclined  to  swallow  the  pill  for 
the  sake  of  the  gilding.  I  honestly  tell  you  I 
believe  there  is  no  earthly  harm  in  the  girl's 
whole  composition,  and  I  am  quite  sure  she 
will  make  a  mighty  proper  milk  and  water 
partner  for  life;  but  I  cannot  allow  you  to 
fancy  that  you  succeed  in  imposing  upon  me 
by  praising  her  qualities,  and  telling  me  what 
she  is9  when  I  know,  my  dear  fellow,  that  your 
real  attachment  is  to  what  she  has." 

"  I  admit  readily,"  said  James,  "I  do  not 
like  her  the  less  for  having  a  couple  of  hundred 
thousand  pounds !" 

"  What ! — you  were  joking,  when  you  said  be- 
fore dinner  that  she  had  two  hundred  thousand 
pounds  I" 

"  By  Jove,  she  has  though,"  exclaimed  the 
animated  lover. 

"  Then,"  replied  George,  "my  dear  brother, 
make  yourself  easy :  I  have  done,  not  one  sylla- 
ble more  will  I  say  in  her  dispraise.     I  am  pre- 


THE    SUTHERLANDS. 


pared  to  proclaim  that  she  is  all  beauty  and  sym- 
metry; roses  bloom  on  her  cheeks,  diamonds 
sparkle  in  her  eye3,  and  honey  dew  hangs  on 
her  lip  !  Your  prudence  will  luckily  outweigh 
my  improvidence,  and  I  shall  teach  my  children 
to  look  with  hope  and  veneration  to  their  rich 
uncle  and  most  amiable  aunt.  But  are  you 
quite  sure  ? — positive  ?" 

"  I  discovered  from  Mr.  Lazenby's  agent  by 
a  side- winded  inquiry,  that  he  is  literally  worth 
more  than  two  hundred  thousand  pounds ;  and 
moreover  and  above  all,  that  he  has  but  this  one 
only  daughter.11 

"  You  seem  to  have  made  yourself  master  of 
the  subject,"  said  George. 

"  As  well  as  I  was  able.  Of  course,  I  could 
not  go  point  blank  to  the  man's  agent  and  ask 
about  his  daughter's  prospects  and  property  as  I 
should  about  the  age  and  qualities  of  a  horse  that 
I  proposed  to  purchase ;  but  I  have  sounded 
carefully,  and  happen  to  know  that  I  am 
correct  in  my  information.  I  even  astonished 
Mrs.  Trainer  herself;  for  Grace  was  put  undo* 
her  care  by  a  lady  who  is  since  dead,  and  the 
only  communications  she  has  with  Grace's  family, 
are  half-yearly  remittances  from  the  very  agent 
I  <peak  of.  Grace's  father  writes  tenderly  and 
c  5 


34  THE    SUTHETtLANDS, 

periodically,  and  the  first  cessation  of  a  regular 
intercourse  between  them,  has  occurred  at  the 
present  moment,  when  he  is  on  his  voyage 
homeward,  and  is  daily  expected  in  England.'" 

"  Well,  James,  I  wish  you  joy  with  all  my 
heart,"  said  George  ;  "  you  certainly  have  beaten 
me  in  this  pursuit,  as  you  have  in  every  other 
where  head  and  consideration  are  required, 
Emily,  you  know,  has  not  a  single  shilling  in 
the  world,  but  an  ample  fortune  in  good  spirits 
and  good  temper.  She  is  pretty ;  don't  you 
think  so?" 

"  Undoubtedly ;  I  should  say  more  than 
pretty;  but  I  must  own,  she  appears  to  me  a 
little  too  wild,  a  little  too  abrupt, — somewhat 
unaccustomed  to  society,  I  should  think." 

"  Yes,  quite  unsophisticated,"  said  George, 
"  but  ingenuous, — open  as  the  day.*" 

"  Is  it  a  large  family  ?"  enquired  his  brother. 
"  Why,  upon  my  life,  James,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,"  said  George,  "  I  believe  I  know  rather 
less  about  that  fact  than  I  ought  to  know.  It 
was  but  an  eight  days1  acquaintance,  as  you  are 
aware,  after  all;  and  I  honestly  confess  I  ex- 
pected to  receive  a  very  different  letter  from  my 
dear  good  mother  on  the  occasion,  from  that 


THE    SUTHEELANDS.  35 

which  she  sent  me.  I  am  sure  I  never  can 
be  sufficiently  grateful  to  her  for  her  kindness ; 
and  that  it  was,  which  annoyed  me  so  deucedly 
before  dinner  about  my  poor  dear  father's 
picture." 

"  Ah  J"  said  James,  "  that  was  but  a  trifle  ; 
there  have  been  some  other  contre-temps  besides 
that,  I  believe.  Poor  Jane  has  been  smarting 
under  some  little  severe  things  which  your  lady 
has  been  firing  at  her,  and  which,  uninten- 
tionally, have  cut  her  to  the  very  heart." 

"  Dear,  dear  James,  what  can  I  do  to  pre- 
vent this  sort  of  warfare? — so  soon  commenced 

too  r 

What  might  have  been  the  pacificatory  plan 
of  the  anxious  husband,  I  know  not ;  for  at  this 
very  critical  moment  Mr.  James's  servant  an- 
nounced that  his  pony  was  at  the  door  in  readi- 
ness to  bear  its  master  to  "  Belmont  Establish- 
ment," to  love,  weak  tea,  and  Miss  Grace 
Lazenby. 

It  was  evident,  however,  that  George  knew 
as  little  as  might  be  of  the  family  with  which  he 
had  so  hastily  connected  himself;  and  a  very 
short  time  convinced  him  that  the  residence  of 
his  mother  and  sister  under  the  same  roof  with 


36  THE    SUTHEE LANDS. 

his  wife  was  an  impossibility.  Not  only  did 
Emily  counteract  and  thwart  every  proposal  or 
plan  which  the  old  lady  originated,  but  even 
condescended  to  practical  jokes  upon  Jane's 
poodles  and  Java  sparrows;  and  it  reached  the 
ears  of  this  willow-wearing  fair  one,  that  Emily's 
maid  Tracy  had  told  Evans  in  confidence, 
that  she  and  her  mistress  were  determined  never 
to  rest  till  they  had  got  the  old  ones  out. 

Jane,  all  sensitive  as  she  was,  received  this 
intelligence  with  less  surprise  than  distress. 
She  was  by  far  too  unworldly  to  think  of  main- 
taining a  contest  at  such  unequal  odds  with  her 
fair  sister-in-law,  and  thought  it  the  wisest  way 
to  communicate  to  her  mother  the  information 
which  had  thus  circuitously  reached  her.  Her 
mother  saw  the  matter  in  precisely  the  same  light 
as  her  daughter,  and  became  impatiently  anxi- 
ous to  quit  Ringsworth  before  such  provocation 
had  been  offered  as  might,  perhaps,  provoke  the 
guerre  ouverte,  and  necessarily  terminate  all  com- 
munication between  her  son's  family  and  herself. 

Her  uneasiness  for  George,  however,  did  not 
at  all  diminish,  when  she  found  Emily  daily  and 
gradually  changing  the  character  and  situation 
pf  Tracy  from  that  of  servant  to  companion. 
Whenever  they  were  surprised  together,  they 


THE    SUTHEELANDS.  37 

were  either  seated  in  close  communication,  or 
else  in  such  familiar  intercourse,  as  to  leave  no 
doubt  that  the  difference  in  their  relative  situa- 
tions in  life  was  not  so  great  as  that  which  it 
ought  to  have  been. 

Mrs.  George  had,  long  before  the  projected 
departure  of  the  old  lady,  assumed  the  head  of 
the  table  ;  and  the  familiarity  with  which  she 
treated  her  brother-in-law,  whom  she  invariably, 
and  much  to  his  annoyance,  called  Jem,  so 
sickened  Jane,  that  she  ordinarily  affected  ill- 
ness, and  dined  in  her  own  room.  James  saw 
all  these  things  in  progress,  but  George  did 
not ;  he  only  discovered  in  his  wife's  conduct 
the  natural  assertion  of  her  rights,  and,  although 
there  was  certainly  an  over-familiarity  between 
Tracy  and  herself,  he  considered  that  Tracy 
was  her  oion  maid,  and  justly  estimating  the 
influence  of  such  persons  over  their  mistresses, 
saw  nothing  peculiar  or  improper  in  their  fa- 
miliar association. 

One  fine  morning,  however,  two  important 
events  were  announced  in  the  family  circle : 
one,  the  return  of  Mr.  Lazenby  from  India ; 
the  other,  the  proposed  arrival  of  Mrs.  George 
Sutherland's  two  sisters  on  a  visit  to  Rings- 
worth. 


38  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

The  former  piece  of  intelligence  decided  the 
motions  of  James;  the  latter  promised  to  expe- 
dite those  of  Mrs.  Sutherland  and  her  daughter, 
who  were  determined,  at  all  risk  of  inconve- 
nience, to  avoid  the  task  of  encountering  two 
more  members  of  a  family,  a  connexion  with 
which  had  already  disturbed  the  quiet  of  their 
once  peaceful  home,  and  disunited  the  fondest 
parent  from  the  most  dutiful  of  sons. 

It  was  painful  to  see  the  gradual  decline  of 
that  once  unmixed  respect  and  attention  which 
George  at  other  times  had  been  accustomed  to 
bestow  upon  his  mother ;  it  was  cutting  to  the 
wounded  heart  of  poor  Jane  to  hear  the  re- 
marks not  only  of  Emily,  but  of  her  favourite 
minister  Tracy,  upon  "  plain  young  women,'1 
and  "  ill-tempered-looking  disappointed  ladies," 
which,  together  with  sundry  coarse  allusions  to 
"  mutton  dressed  lamb  fashion,"  and  the  "  un- 
fortunate Miss  Bailey,  who  hanged  herself  for 
love,"  were  dealt  out  in  her  hearing  by  the 
amiable  pair ;  who,  if  they  did  not  venture 
to  talk  to  Miss  Sutherland  in  such  a  strain, 
found  frequent  opportunities  of  talking  at  her, 
of  which,  it  must  be  owned,  they  never  failed  to 
avail  themselves. 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  39 

In  the  midst  of  their  preparations  for  the 
removal  of  the  mother  and  daughter  to  Bath, 
James,  whose  affection  for  his  parent  and  sister, 
combined  with  his  dislike  of  extravagance  and 
detestation  of  levity,  actually  made  him  hate 
his  new  connexion,  received  a  summons  from 
Mrs.  Trainer,  superscribed  "  Private,"  and  re- 
questing an  immediate  interview.  He  instantly 
connected  this  challenge  in  his  mind  with  the 
arrival  of  Grace's  father ;  nor  was  he  wrong.  It 
was  on  this  very  important  and  delicate  subject 
that  Mrs.  Trainer  wished  to  speak  to  him  alone 
and  confidentially. 

James  proceeded  to  the  "  Establishment,"" 
where  he  found  the  matron  sola,  and  evidently 
prepared  for  a  solemn  discussion  of  the  weighty 
affair :  his  eyes  wandered  round  the  room  for 
Grace,  but  Grace  was  not  to  be  seen. 

"  I  have  sent  for  you,  my  dear  Mr.  Suther- 
land,1' said  Mrs.  Trainer,  "  because  I  know 
young  hearts  are  sanguine,  and  young  heads 
inconsiderate  ;  and  if  you  had  heard  what  I 
have  done,  from  any  body  except  myself,  you 
would  perhaps  have  blamed  me  for  want  of 
candour,  or  censured  me  for  want  of  feeling. 
— Miss  Lazenby  has  left  me." 


40  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

"  Indeed !"  said  James,  and  his  countenance 
altered ;  "  whither  is  she  gone  ?" 

"  To  her  father,"  said  the  sage  matron. 

"  Without  one  word  at  parting  r* 

"  I  thought  it  best, — I  had  my  reasons. " 

"  But  I  shall  see  her  again." 

"  Often,  I  hope,"  said  Mrs.  Trainer:  "she 
is  a  good  and  amiable  girl,  and  with  her  ex- 
pectations, her  modesty  and  humility  are  quite 
exemplary." 

"  When  does  she  return  ?"   asked  James. 

"  Perhaps  not  at  all ;  but  I  have  not  been 
unmindful  of  you,  Mr.  Sutherland ;  I  saw  and 
knew  how  both  of  ye  were  inclined,  and  I 
think,  I  may  safely  say  I  have  done  my  duty.51 

"  Pray  explain,"  said  James. 

"  The  sister  of  the  lady  who  placed  Miss 
Lazenby  with  me,"  continued  Mrs.  Trainer, 
"  came  this  morning  to  fetch  her,  and  take  her 
to  London  to  her  father,  whose  occupations  pre- 
vented his  quitting  town.  I  felt  bound  for  the 
sake  of  my  dear  Grace,  as  well  as  for  yours  and 
my  own,  to  explain  to  that  lady  my  suspicion  of 
an  existing  attachment  between  you." 

"  Did  you — indeed  !"  said  James  anxiously. 
"  I    did — and    I  believe  by  what  I  said,   I 


THE    SUTHEKLAXDS.  41 

have  secured  the  interest  of  that  lady  in  your 
behalf." 

"  But  Grace  herself ?" 

"  Loves  you  !"  said  Mrs  Trainer. 

"  You  flatter  me." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Mrs.  Trainer  ;  "  however,  I 
have  written  a  letter  to  Mr.  Lazenby,  de- 
tailing the  nature  and  progress  of  your  mutual 
attachment,  exculpating  myself  for  any  undue 
influence  over  his  child's  affections ;  describing 
as  accurately  as  I  was  able,  the  rank  and  for- 
tune of  her  admirer,  and  expressing  a  belief 
that  her  happiness  is  deeply  involved  and  in- 
timately connected  with  the  successful  termi- 
nation of  the  intercourse.'" 

"  Ten  thousand  thanks,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Trainer;  how  shall  I  ever  repay  this  kind- 
ness ?"  exclaimed  the  grateful  lover. 

"  I  will  tell  you  how,  James  Sutherland,71 
answered  Mrs.  Trainer  :  "  we  are  now  speak- 
ing, you  know,  in  strict  and  perfect  confidence; 
I  shall  therefore  be  candid  and  explicit.  I 
have  a  son  ;  he  married  early  and  imprudently ; 
he  has  a  wife  and  four  children,  and  is  still  a 
subaltern  in  the  army  ;  an  opportunity  pre- 
sents  itself  of  purchasing  a  company  for  him, 


42  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

I  have  not  the  money,  you  have ;  lend  me  the 
necessary  sum  to  accomplish  this  purpose,  and 
I  will  secure  you  Grace  Lazenby." 

An  attack  upon  James's  purse  was  indeed  a 
most  desperate  attempt,  and  he  appeared  thun- 
derstruck at  this  very  abrupt  advance.  Could 
Mrs.  Trainer  be  mercenary,  could  she  ha\e  for- 
warded his  views  upon  Grace  with  an  interested 
motive,  yet  was  he  not,  in  point  of  fact,  in  her 
power,  in  so  far  as  that  assuredly  Mr.  Lazenby 
would  consult  her  and  take  her  advice  upon 
the  marriage  ? 

These  considerations  crowded  into  James's 
small  and  narrow  mind  in  the  space  of  half  a 
minute  ;  but  they  all  made  room  for  another 
still  more  touching  and  immediate  enquiry  ;  — 
"  What  was  the  sum  she  wanted  ?" 

James,  as  I  before  said,  instantly  saw  the 
importance  of  Mrs.  Trainer's  good  opinion  ; 
and  although  he  loved  his  money  dearly,  still 
he  was  enough  of  a  politician  to  perceive 
that  the  very  best  way  of  laying  out  his 
capital  was  that  which  would  secure  him  the 
most  profitable  return  ;  he  readily  caught  at 
her  proposal.  It  was  clear  that  by  acceding 
to  her  desire,  he  should  inevitablv  secure  her 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  45 

by  the  double  tie  of  fear  and  gratitude ;  for 
if  she  failed  to  exert  herself  sufficiently,  ex- 
position to  the  world,  he  was  resolved,  should 
inevitably  ensue. 

But  James  even  refined  upon  this  refinement : 
he  told  her  that  the  sum  she  required,  was  at  her 
service  ;  and  by  way  of  ensuring  her  warmest 
advocacy,  and  her  most  strenuous  efforts  in  his 
behalf,  he  explained  to  her,  that  she  might 
command  the  amount  as  a  loan  at  all  events; 
but  that,  if  he  married  Grace  through  her  inter- 
vention, the  bond  she  would  give  him  as  security 
for  the  advance,  should  be  cancelled  on  the  day 
of  the  wedding. 

Oh,  that  corruption  such  as  this,  should 
rankle  under  the  ivy-covered  roof  of  "  Bel- 
mont Establishment ;"  or  that  a  library,  well 
filled  with  the  works  of  Porteus  and  Tom- 
line  and  Horsley,  should  have  been  the  scene 
of  such  a  transaction !  Now  could  James 
easily  divine  why  things  had  occurred  at  "  Bel- 
mont Establishment,"  which  had  hitherto  been 
inexplicable  ;  now  could  he  more  readily  under- 
stand the  intimacy  which  subsisted  between  the 
respectable  head  of  this  seminary,  and  Mr.  Biggs 
the  attorney,  who  was  perpetually  in  her  house, 


44  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

and  who  (no  sooner  said  than  done)  was  imme- 
diately introduced  to  forward  and  complete  the 
arrangement  proposed  in  the  present  instance 
by  the  exemplary  guardian  of  female  morality, 
for  the  laudable  purpose  of  promoting  her  only 
son's  interests. 

Mr.  Biggs  was  a  prudent,  wary,  tenacious, 
taciturn  personage,  and,  as  times  go,  some- 
what honest,  and  who,  although  retired  from 
business,  had  been  selected  by  the  lady  of  the 
house  as  a  gentleman  quite  to  be  relied  on. 

James  felt  a  degree  of  awkwardness  in  open- 
ing the  business,  but  Mrs.  Trainer  explained  to 
him  in  a  corner,  that  there  was  no  necessity  for 
any  confidential  conditions  in  the  obligation;  she 
was  quite  ready  to  trust  to  his  honour  as  to  return- 
ing the  bond  in  the  event  of  the  marriage ;  and 
that  it  needed  only  to  be  a  simple  bond  for  so 
much  money,  covenanting  on  her  part  to  pay 
certain  interest,  and  repay  the  principal  at  a  cer- 
tain period ;  in  short,  she  talked  the  matter  over 
with  so  much  tact,  and  knowledge  of  the  sort  of 
thing,  that  James  felt  assured  that  she  was 
a  very  prudent  long-headed  person,  not  alto- 
gether unaccustomed  to  similar  negotiations : 
and  elated   beyond   measure   with    the   bright 


THE    SUTHEItLANDS.  45 

prospects  of  fortune  which  this  temporary  sacri- 
fice opened  to  his  view,  the  crafty  lover  gave 
the  necessary  directions  to  Biggs,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  following  day  received  the  valuable 
document  in  return  for  fifteen  hundred  pounds, 
which  he  paid  with  the  greatest  satisfaction  into 
the  hands  of  the  Dame ;  convinced  (as  how 
could  he  fail  to  be?)  that  in  so  doing,  he  had 
laid  the  foundation  of  his  future  wealth  aixl 
prosperity. 

James,  who  with  all  his  worldliness  had  never 
felt  the  smallest  suspicion  of  his  dear  friend 
Mrs.  Trainer,  was  a  good  deal  puzzled  what  to 
make  of  society,  when  he  found  this  venerable 
personage,  absolutely  making  a  traffic  of  her 
pupils  ;  quite  certain  in  his  own  mind,  that  one 
or  two  girls  who  had  previously  married  early  in 
life,  after  having  left  the  "Establishment,"  had 
been  disposed  of  in  a  similar  manner.  He  de- 
termined, however,  carefully  to  conceal  his 
proceedings  from  George,  against  whom  he  an- 
ticipated many  future  laughs  in  that  golden  age, 
when  he  should  possess  his  Grace  and  ten  thou- 
sand pounds  per  annum. 

In  the  mean  time,  Mrs.  Sutherland  and  Jane 
bade  adieu  to  Ringsworth  ;  and  it  was  a  moving 


4G  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

sight  to  see  the  old  servants  take  leave  of  their 
ancient  mistress  at  the  gate  :  there  was  scarcely 
a  dry  eye  amongst  them  ;  and  Carr,  whose  grey 
locks  blew  about  in  the  breeze  as  he  stood  bare- 
headed at  the  carriage-door,  looked  as  if  his  last 
hope  of  comfort  was  fast  fleeting  from  him. 
Judge  what  Jane's  feelings  were,  when,  in 
the  midst  of  this  scene,  she  cast  her  eyes  up- 
wards towards  the  house,  and  beheld  Mrs. 
George  Sutherland  and  her  own  maid  Tracy 
dancing  about  wildly  and  grotesquely,  evidently 
for  joy  at  their  departure,  in  one  of  the  bed- 
chambers, the  windows  of  which  happened  for- 
tuitously to  be  open. 

Poor  Jane  said  nothing,  but  drew  back  in  the 
carriage,  in  order  that  the  lively  tenants  of  her 
ancient  home  might  not  have  the  gratification 
of  knowing  that  she  had  seen  their  Terpsi- 
chorean  evolutions. 

Mrs.  Sutherland  shed  tears  as  she  parted 
with  her  faithful  domestics.  It  was  natural 
that  she  should ;  and  when  George  kissed  her 
extended  hand,  she  sank  backward  in  the  ba- 
rouche, and  uttered  a  prayer  for  happiness,  which, 
however  fervently  she  implored  the  blessings  of 


THE    SUTHERLAND*.  47 

Heaven  upon  his  head,  she  felt  apprehensive 
might  never  be  his. 

The  week  in  which  they  took  their  departure 
had  not  passed  before  Mary  Busbridge  and 
Lucy  Busbridge,  the  grace-like  sisters  of  the 
lady  of  the  mansion,  arrived  at  Rings  worth, 
escorted  by  two  important  personages,  one  the 
tall  gentleman  in  the  stockinet  pantaloons, 
whom  my  readers  may  remember  to  have  heard 
of  at  Leamington ;  the  other,  a  Lieutenant 
Mullhologan,  on  the  half-pay  of  a  Columbian 
regiment  of  Horse-Marines. 

George  received  this  importation  of  visitors 
with  the  good-nature,  of  which  he  had  an  abun- 
dance, and  Emily  did  the  honours  of  the  house 
with  exquisite  skill  and  activity.  George  could 
not,  however,  avoid  noticing  the  extraordinary 
familiarity  which  existed  between  his  wife's 
maid  Tracy  and  the  newly-arrived  ladies ;  nor 
did  the  free  and  easy  manner  in  which  the 
beaux  practically  asserted  their  entire  intimacy 
with  his  sisters-in-law  quite  gratify  James,  who, 
although  anxiously  awaiting  a  call  to  London 
from  Mr.  Lazenby,  still  remained  at  Rings- 
worth. 


48  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

James  observed,  moreover,  that  the  Lieute- 
nant upon  half-pay,  and  the  tall  gentleman  in 
the  stockinet  pantaloons,  played  billiards  with 
uncommon  skill,  and  possessed  all  the  delicate 
arts  of  chalking,  and  twisting,  and  screwing,  and 
angling  in  a  supereminent  degree.  He  remarked^ 
too,  that  they  appeared  to  have  an  over-addiction 
to  Claret  and  Champagne,  and  a  peculiarly  strong 
affection  for  Ruydersheimer  and  Markbrunner  ; 
and  that  they  were  by  no  means  over-scrupulous 
in  ordering  out  his  brother's  horses,  and  gallop- 
ing them  at  a  pretty  sharp  rate,  in  all  directions, 
over  the  neighbouring  country.  Late  hours  and 
drinking  speedily  usurped  the  places  of  tem- 
perance and  sobriety  ;  and  after  five  days  sejour, 
the  invaders  were  evidently  the  conquerors — 
James  gradually  trained  off  from  the  party, 
George  yielded  to  all  their  persuasions,  and 
Carr  the  butler  was  confined  to  his  bed. 

On  the  sixth  day,  after  dinner,  and  when  the 
wine  had  circulated  pretty  freely,  the  Lieu- 
tenant observed  to  our  tall  friend  in  the  webs, 
that  Emily  was  very  like  what  her  father  must 
have  been. 

"  D'ye  think  so,"  said  the  other ;  "  I  think 
Tracy  more  like  old  Buz  than  any  of  them." 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  49 

James  looked  at  George — it  was  the  last  day 
of  his  stay  at  Ringsworth. 

"  Buz  made  a  bad  end,  George,  didn't  he  ?" 
said  the  tall  gentleman  in  the  stockinets,  fa- 
miliarly, to  the  head  of  the  house  of  Suther-* 
land. 

"  Buz  ?"  repeated  George. 

"  Buz  F*1  echoed  James. 

"Ay,  Buz!"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "that's 
what  we  used  always  to  call  old  Boniface,  after 
his  accident." 

"  Boniface  ?"  exclaimed  James. 

"  Boniface  ?"  repeated  George — "  pray  whom 
do  you  mean,  Major  ?" 

By  which  it  is  to  be  inferred  that  the  tall 
gentleman  in  the  stockinets  had  attained  to  the 
rank  of  field-officer. 

"  I  mean  your  father-in-law,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Oh  P  said  George ;  somewhat  ashamed  to 
confess  how  very  little  he  knew  upon  the  subject. 

"  I'll  be  hanged,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "  if  I 
don't  think  the  old  fellow  was  ill-used — don't 
you,  Sutherland  ?" 

"  Upon  what  occasion,"  simply,  and  somewhat 
coldly,  enquired  the  master  of  the  house. 

"  Why,  upon  the  occasion :  if  he  had  had  good 

VOL.  I.  D 


50  THE    SUTHEItLANDS. 

counsel,  I  do  think,  by  Jove,  he  would  have 
got  off." 

"  Off  what  ?"  asked  James. 

"Why,  that  ugly  business  at  Liverpool; — 
because,"  added  the  Lieutenant  eagerly  and  ear- 
nestly, "  his  hand  never  was  seen  through  the 
broken  window,  and  not  one  bit  of  the  property 
was  ever  found  upon  him." 

James  and  his  brother  opened  very  wide  their 
eyes  and  ears. 

"  I  don't  in  the  smallest  degree  compre- 
hend," said  James,  "  what  you  are  talking 
about." 

"  No,  no,  to  be  sure,"  said  the  Major ;  "  it  is 
very  silly  to  talk  about  it  at  all,  Mulhologan ; 
besides,  the  servants  may  overhear,  and  there 's 
no  use  in  their  knowing  any  thing  of  the  mat- 
ter." 

"  But  who  do  you  mean  had  his  hand  through 
a  shop  window,  and ?" 

(%  What,  hasn't  Emily  told  you  ?  She  is 
a  sly  little  devil,  to  be  sure ;  that's  just  like  her, 
Bob,  isn't  it  ?"  said  the  Major,  appealing  to  the 
Lieutenant.  "  Just  like  her,  keeping  all  that 
story  snug  about  Bill  Hayes  and  the  watch." 

"  T  really  should  thank  you,  gentlemen,"  said 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  51 

George,  "  to   let   me  a  little  farther  into  this 
history." 

"  Why,  don't  let  Emmy  know  that  we  have 
told  you,  else  she  '11  be  savage  with  us,"  said 
the  Lieutenant :  "  but  old  Buz,  her  father,  as 
I  supposed  you  had  known,  kept  the  Hog-in- 
Armour,  at  Mickleworth,  and  there  failed. 
The  girls  were  fine  showy  creatures  ;  Emmy 
was  the  best  of  the  bunch,  by  the  by  ;  and  old 
Mrs.  Malooney,  a  great  ally  of  the  Major's 
here,  who  happened  to  come  over  from  Ireland 
at  the  time  of  the  old  man's  smash,  took  them 
up  and  carried  them  over  to  Dublin,  and  about 
to  Cheltenham  and  Leamington,  and,  I  believe, 
she  made  a  very  pretty  thing  of  it,  one  way  or 
the  other.  Old  Buz  got  off  to  Edinburgh,  and 
was  appointed  by  somebody,  Surveyor-general 
at  Poyais,  went  out  and  found  no  Poyais  to  sur- 
vey, so  he  returned,  and  being  "  hard  up,"  as 
we  say,  took  it  into  his  head  to  break  a  shop- 
window  at  Liverpool,  and  take  out  some  trinket 
stuff,  for  which  he  is  now  hard  at  work  upon 
the  tread-mill  at  Lancaster,  whence  he  will 
speedily  retire  to  Botany  Bay." 

"  What !"  exclaimed  James   in  an   agony — 
"  My  brother's  father-in-law,  Sir  !" 
d2 


52  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

"  Ah,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "  the  same — 
that  is  to  say,  his  nominal  father-in-law." 

"  Nominal,  Lieutenant !"  said  George. — 
What  do  you  mean  by  nominal  ?" 

"  Why  I  mean  he  would  be  your  father-in- 
law  if  you  were  really  married  to  our  little 
Emmy." 

"  Really  married  !  why  so  I  am.  Do  you 
imagine  that  if  I  had  not  been  really  married, 
I  should  have  brought  a  female  into  .my  family, 
the  mistress  of  my  house,  and  the  associate  of 
my  mother  and  sister  ?" 

"  Why !"  said  the  Major,  staring  at  him, 
much  astonished,  "  you  don't  mean  to  say  that 
you  are  really  married  to  our  little  friend." 

"  But  I  do,"  said  George. 

"  God  bless  me  !"  said  the  Lieutenant,  look- 
ing mightily  confused  :  "  Major,  I — I  didn't, 
eh  ?" 

"  'Gad/'  said  the  Major,  "  I  had  no  notion 
of  that ;  I  thought  it  was  only  a  Malooney 
marriage:  why,  then,  for  once,  Emmy  has 
turned  to  speaking  truth." 

James  was,  by  this  time,  overwhelmed  with 
grief  and  consternation :  not  only  had  the 
dreadful  history  of   the  Busbridges   thus   un- 


THE    SUTHEIILANDS. 


53 


expectedly  and  abruptly  burst  upon  him,  but, 
in  addition  to  every  other  calamity  attendant 
upon  the  frightful  denouement,  the  reflection  that 
the  whole  of  this  detail  would  probably  reach 
Mr.  Lazenby's  ears,  and  destroy  at  one  fell 
swoop  all  his  hopes  and  expectations,  drove  him 
half  mad. 

As  for  poor  George,  he  was  paralysed.  Now, 
indeed,  was  the  leisure  of  repentance  come  :  what 
had  he  done?  had  he  been  duped — cheated? 
No,  it  seemed  not, — he  had  duped  and  deceived 
himself ;  and  Mrs.  Malooney,  whom  he  soon  dis- 
covered to  be  a  person  actually  supporting  her- 
self by  pandering  to  the  profligacy  of  the  rich 
and  great,  had  merely  allowed  him  to  settle 
one  of  her  protegees  comfortably  ;  she,  the  said 
Mrs.  Malooney,  having  stipulated  for  a  reward, 
which  Emily's  mingled  ingenuity  and  cunning 
soon  procured  her,  by  continued  drafts  upon 
her  husband's  purse,  not  indeed  in  money,  but 
by  the  purchase  of  costly  articles  at  various 
fashionable  repositories,  negotiated  for  her  as 
the  wife  of  George  Sutherland,  of  Ringsworth, 
Esq. ;  the  bills  for  which  only  lay  dormant  till 
the  sharp  air  of  the  approaching  Christmas 
should  rouse  them  from  their  slumbers.     By  the 


54  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

artful  agency  of  Tracy,  who,  it  turned  out,  was 
neither  more  nor  less  than  her  half-sister,  Mrs, 
George  had  accumulated  sufficient  property  to 
gratify  her  ancient  and  avaricious  chaperone, 
who,  since  her  departure  from  Leamington, 
had  been  bringing  forward  her  two  sisters, 
under  the  temporary  protection  of  her  depen- 
dants Lieutenant  Mulhologan,  and  the  tall  gen- 
tleman in  the  stockinet  pantaloons. 

No  sooner,  however,  had  these  worthies, 
under  the  influence  of  a  somewhat  too  copious 
libation  of  Chateau  Margaut,  made  this  gratui- 
tous disclosure  to  their  host,  than  they  began  to 
repent  of  their  communicativeness.  The  truth 
is,  that  they  doubted  the  fact  of  George's  mar- 
riage, and  had  intended  to  extract  the  real  state 
of  the  case  from  him,  with  that  art  and  finesse 
with  which  they  were  quite  competent  to  con- 
duct an  enterprise  at  once  so  extremely  delicate, 
and,  to  them,  important :  for  such  was  the 
knowledge  of  the  character  of  their  female 
friends  which  the  two  beaux  possessed,  that 
they  always  believed  the  history  of  the  wedding 
to  have  been  made  up  by  Mrs.  Malooney  and 
Emily ;  Mrs.  Malooney,  on  the  other  hand, 
being  too  well  aware  of  the  persons  with  whom 
she  had  to  deal  in  the  gallant  and  exemplary 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  55 

gentlemen,  the  present  inmates  of  Ringsworth, 
to  trust  either  of  them  with  more  of  her  affairs 
than  was  absolutely  necessary  to  the  conduct  of 
her  schemes— in  short,  for  various  purposes  the 
plot,  in  all  its  parts,  was  composed  of  trickery 
and  deception ;  and  these  very  knaves,  who 
were  absolutely  swindling  the  unsuspecting  hus- 
band, were  in  their  turn  mere  puppets  in  the 
hands  of  the  designing  sibyl. 

The  Major,  (who,  in  justice  to  our  army 
I  should  say  held  his  commission  in  the  Third 
Regiment  of  Poyasian  Green  Hussars,)  and  the 
Columbian  Lieutenant,  seeing  that  George  was 
completely  overcome  by  the  intelligence  which  he 
had  so  unexpectedly  and  abruptly  received  from 
them,  and  James  having  retired  half  bewildered 
to  "Belmont  Establishment,"  began  to  soothe  and 
console  their  agitated  host.  They  praised  Emily 
to  the  very  echo,  talked  of  her  good  temper,  and 
argued  as  to  how  she  could  have  any  thing  to  do 
with  her  father's  crime  ;  and  after  imbibing  some 
more  claret,  and  directing  the  illumination  of 
the  billiard-room,  they  so  far  prevailed  upon 
George,  that  he  promised  to  take  no  notice  to 
his  wife  of  the  conversation  which  had  passed 
— a  precaution  which,  it  must  be  admitted, 
Vvas   reasonable  ;   for,    upon  the  principle  that 


56  THE    SUTHERLAND?. 

"  What  cannot  be  cured,  must  be  endured,"  and 
that  "  What  's  done,  cannot  be  undone,"  the 
only  mode  of  treating  the  affair  was  to  make  the 
best  of  it.  Their  careful  anxiety  for  the  peace 
of  the  family,  however,  was  not  so  efficient  as  it 
might  have  been  ;  for  it  turned  out  that  Emily 
and  her  sisters  had  posted  themselves  at  the 
door  of  the  dinner-parlour,  with  the  intention  of 
overhearing  that  sort  of  convivial  jocularity 
which  is  not  ordinarily  indulged  in,  while  la- 
dies are  present,  and  which,  in  society  such  as 
the  Busbridges  were  accustomed  to,  usurps  the 
place  of  enlightened  conversation,  and  the  ra- 
tional interchange  of  sentiment  and  opinion. 

Huddled  together  on  their  knees,  the  ears  of 
two  of  them  close  to  the  pannels,  and  the  eye  of 
the  third  applied  to  the  key-hole  of  the  dining- 
parlour  door,  were  this  group  of  Ringsworth 
Graces  detected  by  Mr.  James  Sutherland,  as  he 
quitted  the  room  on  his  way  to  the  bower  of  his 
beloved  Miss  Lazenby  (in  whose  absence  he 
constantly  visited  its  guardian  angel  in  the  hope 
of  news).  As  he  touched  the  lock,  they  took 
wing  like  a  covey  of  partridges ;  but  their 
flight,  though  precipitate,  was  unavailing.  The 
cracking  of  knees  and  ancles,  and  the  rustling  of 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  57 

drapery,  as  James  "  put  them  up,"  betrayed  the 
fluttering  fugitives ;  and  their  already  horrified 
brother-in-law  received  in  the  spectacle  of  their 
retreat  a  fresh  specimen  of  the  breeding  and  ac- 
complishments by  which  his  newly-acquired  con- 
nexions were  so  unfavourably  distinguished. 

Little  did  the  calculating  lover  anticipate 
what  was  awaiting  him  at  "  Belmont  Establish- 
ment." Hardly,  perhaps,  will  my  reader  expect 
to  hear  that  Mrs.  Trainer  had  received  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Lazenby,  thanking  her  for  her  can- 
dour, and  praising  her  discernment,  and  inviting 
Mr.  James  Sutherland  to  town — explaining  the 
pressure  of  his  own  personal  business  which  in- 
duced him  to  take  this  measure,  and  actually 
enclosing  a  civil  note  addressed  to  his  intended 
son-in-law,  requesting  the  pleasure  of  a  visit 
from  him. 

James  was  completely  overcome  by  the  ex- 
cellence and  importance  of  this  communication  : 
he  could  with  difficulty  restrain  himself  from 
the  most  violent  expressions  of  joy  and  satisfac- 
tion, and  instantly  resolved  that  the  early  dawn 
of  day  should  find  him  on  his  way  to  London ; 
in  which  resolution  he  was  much  strengthened  by 
the  counsel  of  Mrs.  Trainer,  who  advisedhis  start- 
d5 


58  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

ing  forthwith  post  for  town.  It  would,  she 
said,  evince  his  ardent  affection  for  Grace,  and 
his  unmixed  respect  for  her  father.  "  Besides, 
James  Sutherland,"  said  Mrs.  Trainer,  "  there 
is  nothing  like  striking  while  the  iron  *s  hot." 

James  appeared  entirely  to  agree  with  his 
ancient  counsellor,  but  prudently  recollected, 
in  the  midst  of  his  ecstasies,  that  there  was  a 
heavy  night-coach  which  regularly  passed 
through  Ringsworth  at  eleven  o'clock,  which 
would  answer  all  the  purpose  of  a  post-chaise, 
and  not  cost  one  quarter  as  much.  Mrs. 
Trainer,  although  rallying  him  upon  his  ill-timed 
economy,  admitted  the  justice  of  his  scheme, 
and  accordingly  he  returned  to  the  home  of  his 
fathers — how  profaned — he  did  not  stop  to  think, 
to  put  his  plan  in  execution  ;  and  after  giving 
directions  to  his  servant  to  prepare  his  luggage 
for  a  journey,  proceeded  to  take  leave  of  his 
brother,  and,  at  the  same  time,  communicate  the 
events  of  the  evening,  and  the  receipt  of  the 
amicable  letter  from  old  Lazenby.  But,  alas  ! 
when  he  reached  the  billiard-room  for  that  pur- 
pose, he  found  George  in  such  a  state  of  intoxi- 
cation, as  to  be  incapable  of  receiving  the  inte- 
resting intelligence  which  he  had  to  impart,  play- 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  59 

mg  high  at  the  game  which  lie  did  not  under- 
stand with  the  Lieutenant,  who  was  a  first-rate 
artist,  while  the  care  of  the  score  was  solely  con- 
fided to  the  charge  of  the  tall  gentleman  in  the 
stockinet  pantaloons. 

James  saw  that  any  attempt  at  business  would 
be  vain  in  the  present  state  of  things :  and, 
therefore,  determined  to  withdraw  himself 
quietly,  merely  leaving  a  letter  for  his  unfor- 
tunate brother,  which  in  the  morning  he  might 
l>e  sufficiently  recovered  to  read.  As  he  crossed 
the  hall,  (promising  as  his  own  circumstances  ap- 
peared,) his  heart  felt  any  thing  but  light,  when 
he  heard  the  ladies  in  the  blue  drawing-room 
romping  and  screaming,  and  laughing  immode- 
rately. He  could  not  fail  to  reflect  upon  what 
formerly  were  the  customs  of  the  house,  nor,  so 
reflecting,  fail  to  contrast  that,  which  was,  with 
that,  which  had  been.  He  retired  to  his  room, 
and  wrote,  briefly  but  affectionately,  to  George ; 
and  at  a  quarter  past  eleven  the  same  evening, 
found  himself  in  the  heavy  night-coach,  carrying 
six  inside  and  twelve  out :  which  vehicle  con- 
tained, besides  himself,  two  extensive  farmers, 
both  as  to  real  property  and  personal  dimen- 
sions, and  a  young  person  returning  to  London 


OU  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

from  a  rural  excursion  on  a  visit  to  her  friends. 
But  although  the  men  of  land  descanted  some- 
what diffusely  upon  the  varying  prices  of  wheat 
and  barley;  and  although  the  young  person 
seemed  vastly  well  disposed  to  be  extremely 
sociable  with  James,  James  was  too  much  occu- 
pied with  his  own  thoughts  to  devote  any  share 
of  his  attention  to  his  fellow-passengers. 

It  was  impossible  for  him  not  to  regret  the 
fate  of  his  thoughtless  brother ;  it  was  impos- 
sible not  to  anticipate  the  distress  of  his  mother 
and  sister,  when  they  should  be  informed,  as 
they  doubtless  soon  would  be,  of  the  melan- 
choly change  of  affairs  at  Ringsworth;  and  it 
was  equally  impossible  for  James,  with  his  dis- 
position and  character,  to  contemplate  all  these 
scenes  and  events,  without  congratulating  him- 
self upon  his  superior  judgment  and  prudence, 
and  feeling  the  futility  and  injudiciousness  of  all 
the  satirical  observations  which  his  connexions 
had,  during  his  past  life,  been  pleased  to  make 
upon  his  precocious  steadiness  and  premature 
carefulness  in  worldly  matters. 

As  he  slumbered  on  his  way,  his  dreams 
presented  to  his  imagination  heaps  of  gold  and 
silver  plate  and   sparkling   diamonds ;    and  he 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  61 

saw  his  Grace  all  mildness  and  calmness,  pour- 
ing from  a  cornucopia  into  his  outstretched 
hands,  showers  of  rupees,  mohurs,  and  pa- 
godas. When  he  awoke,  and  found  still  the 
same  anticipations  haunting  his  thoughts  and 
pervading  his  mind,  the  journey  seemed  length- 
ened, the  horses  appeared  to  creep,  so  anxious 
was  the  ardent  swain  for  the  promised  inter- 
view with  his  intended  father-in-law. 

Every  thing,  "  yea,  the  great  globe  itself,1' 
shall  have  an  end;  and  accordingly,  at  seven 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  Mr.  James  Sutherland 
extricated  himself  from  the  stage,  and  having 
disposed  his  "  body  politic"  in  a  hackney 
coach,  directed  the  driver  to  carry  him  to  the 
Hummums  in  Covent-garden,  where,  as  he 
would  not  be  expected  to  breakfast  or  dine,  if 
he  did  not  choose  to  do  so,  he  calculated  he 
could  lodge  more  economically  than  at  any 
fashionable  hotel,  where  dinners  are  dressed  on 
the  shortest  notice,  and  breakfasts  delicately 
served  up  at  a  charge  which  our  prudent  youth 
was  pleased  to  consider  exorbitant. 

Long  and  arduous  were  the  operations  of 
James's  toilet;  every  care  was  taken  by  the 
anxious  young  gentleman  to  set  off  to  the  best 


62  THE    SUTHEItLANBS. 

advantage  all  the  good  points  of  his  face  and 
figure.  He  had  dispensed,  for  the  present,  with 
the  attendance  of  his  servant,  because,  as  he 
should  not  immediately  want  him,  he  thought 
he  might  as  well  remain  at  Rings  worth,  by 
which  his  master  would  be  saved  the  expense  of 
keeping  him  in  the  metropolis;  but  a  barber 
of  Tavistock-street  celebrity  was  summoned 
upon  the  special  occasion,  and  James's  lank 
hair,  under  his  care,  was  taught  to  curl  grace- 
fully a  la  Brutus;  strict  orders  were  issued 
that  his  boots  might  shine  in  all  the  "brightness 
of  Day  " — and  Martin ;  and  the  neckcloth,  after 
four  vain  attempts,  wrinkled  round  his  neck  in 
folds,  which  would  have  made  a  dandy  jealous. 

Away  to  Portland-place  did  my  hero  forth- 
with betake  himself;  his  heart  beat  rapidly 
as  he  knocked  at  the  door  of  his  proposed  fa- 
ther-in-law's house ;  his  knees  trembled,  and  his 
hands  were  chilly  cold.  But,  anxious  and  ar- 
dent as  was  his  heart,  he  was,  alas !  doomed 
to  be  disappointed ; — "  Mr.  Lazenby  and  his 
daughter  were  out  of  town  on  a  visit  at  Lay- 
tonstone,  and  did  not  return  till  the  day  after 
to-morrow." 

Now  was  it,  that  James  felt  mightily  embar- 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  Oc> 

rassed  how  to  kill  time  till  the  Nabob's  re- 
turn ;  now  did  he  rejoice  that  he  had  chosen 
the  Hummums,  where  he  could  sleep,  and  dine 
wherever  "  cheap  and  nasty"  dinners  were  to 
be  had  ;  and  accordingly,  after  wondering  a  lit- 
tle at  the  great  man's  remissness  in  leaving  Lon- 
don after  having  invited  him  to  call,  the  par- 
simonious youth  proceeded  to  perambulate  the 
streets,  look  at  every  thing  which  was  to  be 
seen  gratis,  and  having  thrown  a  "  portion  "  of 
tough  roasted  mutton  into  his  stomach,  upon 
the  points  of  a  two-pronged  steel  fork,  at  some 
economical  dining-rooms  near  the  Strand,  he 
proceeded  at  half-price  to  the  pit  of  the  Adel- 
phi  Theatre,  where  he  dissipated  his  evening 
in  witnessing  the  freaks  of  Tom  and  Jerry,  the 
exhibition  of  which  filled  him  so  completely 
with  alarm  and  dread,  that,  upon  quitting  the 
house,  he  ran  home  to  the  shelter  of  his  bed- 
room, where,  alone,  he  fancied  himself  se- 
cure from  the  nocturnal  depredations  of  those 
well-dressed  vagabonds  and  under-bred  fools, 
who  mistake  noise  for  wit,  rioting  for  fun,  and 
all  sorts  of  rascality  for  "  life  and  spirit." 

The  next  morning   James  received  an   apo- 
logetic note  from  Mr.  Lazenby,  (to  whom  his 


64  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

card  had  been  forwarded,)  who  was  still  in  the 
country,  whither  he  had  been  compelled  to  go 
by  urgent  business,  requesting  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  him  the  day  following  that  on  which  he 
would  receive  his  letter,  at  one  o'clock.  This 
note,  couched  in  the  most  friendly  terms,  served 
to  soothe  all  James's  ire,  destroy  his  doubts,  and 
re-assure  his  hopes ;  and,  as  it  is  almost  needless 
to  add,  at  one  o'clock  precisely  on  the  following 
day,  Mr.  James  Sutherland  once  more  raised  the 
massive  knocker  pendant  at  the  door  of  Mr. 
Alexander  Lazenby,  and  in  less  than  half  a  mi- 
nute afterwards,  was  ushered  into  a  magnificent 
library,  where  one  of  some  half-dozen  servants, 
who  were  grouped  in  the  hall  when  he  first  en- 
tered, requested  him  to  wait,  and  informed  him 
that  his  master  would  see  him  almost  imme- 
diately. 

James  gazed  round  the  room  with  a  most 
pleasurable  sensation ;  and  although,  as  the 
reader  may  easily  imagine,  the  library  was  not 
filled  with  books  belonging  to  the  newly-re- 
turned nabob,  who  had  taken  the  mansion 
ready-furnished,  still  there  was  an  air  of  af- 
fluence and  comfort  about  all  the  accompani- 
ments, which  cheered  the  hungry  eyes  of  the 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  65 

politic  lover.  After  waiting  some  twenty 
minutes,  the  door  of  the  apartment  was  sud- 
denly opened,  and  the  expectant  youth  sum- 
moned into  the  sanctum  of  the  Rajah. 

He  followed  the  servant  with  anxious  trepida- 
tion ;  and,  when  he  entered  the  small  study  in 
which  the  figure  of  Mr.  Alexander  Lazenby 
first  burst  upon  his  sight,  he  could  scarcely  dis- 
tinguish the  object  of  all  his  hopes  and  fears. 

"  Mr.  Sutherland,  Sir,"  said  the  servant,  as 
he  ushered  the  agitated  young  man  into  the 
apartment. 

Mr.  Alexander  Lazenby  rose,  advanced,  and 
extended  his  hand  to  James,  who  bowed  pro- 
foundly and  reverentially. 

"  Pray  sit  you  down,  Mr.  Sutherland,"  said 
the  Nabob. 

Mr.  Sutherland  tacitly  obeyed. 

"lam  afraid  you  have  been  kept  waiting  ?" 

"  Only  a  few  minutes,  Sir,"  said  James. 

"  You  received  my  letter,  I  presume  ?"  en- 
quired the  Nabob. 

"  It  was  to  answer  that  in  person,  Sir,  that  I 
immediately  set  off  for  town  and  arrived  the  fol- 
lowing morning." 

"  What!  I  hope  you  did  not  travel  all  night?" 


66  THE    SUTHERLAXDS. 

"  Yes,  Sir,  I  did,"  replied  James,  trusting  to 
good-fortune  that  the  aristocratic  Indian  would 
not  push  his  enquiry  upon  this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject any  further. 

"  I  like  this  zeal,  Mr.  Sutherland,"  said  Mr. 
Lazenby  :  "  it  has  the  air  of  that  gallantry  and 
chivalrous  devotion  to  the  fair  which  distin- 
guished the  cavaliers  of  the  olden  time,  and 
which,  although  some  vestiges  of  it  remained  in 
the  year  seventy-nine,  have  now,  I  fear,  made 
way  for  mere  listless  attention  or  common-place 
civility  ;  I  must  congratulate  Grace  upon  so  fa- 
vourable a  specimen  of  your  affection." 

"  Miss  Lazenby,  I  hope,  is  quite  well,  Sir  ?" 

"  She  is  quite  well,"  said  her  father :  "  she  is 
not  here  at  present,  but  still  at  Laytonstone  on 
a  visit  to  the  friend  whose  sister  placed  her  at 
Belmont  Establishment,  and  who  has  a  very  sin- 
cere regard  for  her ;  she  appears  perfectly  amia- 
ble, I  think,  Mr.  Sutherland?"  added  the  anxious 
parent  interrogatively,  and  with  a  great  show  of 
interest. 

"  I  never  met  with  a  sweeter  disposition  in 
my  life,  Sir,"  stammered  out  James. 

"  She  seems  to  have  profited  by  the  care  of 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  67 

Mrs.  Trainer,"  said  Mr.  Lazenby,  "  of  whom  I 
must  confess  I  have  heard  a  very  high  cha- 
racter." 

"  A  very  clever  woman,  I  assure  you,  Sir," 
answered  Mr.  Sutherland,  whose  thoughts  re- 
verted at  the  moment  to  her  son,  his  promotion 
in  the  army,  and  the  disbursement  of  his  own 
fifteen  hundred  pounds. 

"  She  speaks  of  you,  Mr.  Sutherland,  in  terms . 
of  the  most  unqualified  praise,"  said  the  Rajah. 

James  bowed. 

"  And  Grace,  I  believe,  hears  that  praise  with 
pleasure." 

James  blushed,  and  bowed  still  lower. 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Sutherland,"  continued  La- 
zenby, "  had  I  not  convinced  myself  of  her  opi- 
nion, I  should  not  have  troubled  you  with  an  in- 
vitation to  London." 

James  continued  bowing  like  the  Speaker  at 
an  impeachment. 

"  Your  brother,  I  believe,  is  lately  married  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Lazenby. 

This  was  a  question  to  which  the  answer  was 
full  of  difficulty. 

"  He  is,  Sir,"  said  James. 


DO  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

"  A  beautiful  young  lady,  I  am  told  ?" 

"  Very  pretty  and  very  young,"  answered  her 
brother-in-law. 

"  I  remember  your  father,  Sir,"  continued 
the  Nabob,  "when  I  was  over  in  England  last, — 
that  was  before  Grace  was  born,  and  certainly 
then  we  did  not  anticipate  so  intimate  a  con- 
nexion as  in  all  probability  will  eventually  exist 
between  us, — he  was  an  excellent  man,  Sir  ?" 

James  echoed  the  praise  of  his  deceased  pa- 
rent. 

"  I  expect  Grace  to  follow  me  home  to-day," 
observed  Mr.  Lazenby,  "  and  I  honestly  con- 
fess, that  I  am  anxious  to  see  you  together.  I 
pique  myself  upon  being  a  man  of  the  world : 
Mr.  Sutherland,  hasty  marriages  are  frequently 
subjects  of  long  repentance,  and — I  am  sure  you 
will  forgive  a  father — I  should  feel  gratified  by 
living  with  you  both  for  a  short  time  previously 
to  any  definite  arrangement — I  think  I  could 
judge— I—" 

James  saw  in  a  moment  that  the  old  gentleman 
very  wisely  desired  to  form  an  opinion  of  him 
before  he  concluded  the  bargain,  and  that  his  in- 
vitation to  London  resembled  in  some  sort  the 
permission  granted  to  a  servant  to  "  come  upon 


THE    SUTHEELANDS.  69 

trial."  This  was  exactly  what  James  liked ;  for 
he,  as  well  as  his  intended  father-in-law,  mightily 
valued  himself  upon  a  certain  insight  into  cha- 
racter, and  a  prudential  accommodation  of  his 
mind,  temper,  principles,  and  conversation  to 
the  man  and  his  manners  with  whom  he  felt  it 
important,  relatively  to  his  own  advantage,  to 
associate  himself;  he,  therefore,  readily  caught 
at  the  scheme,  and  began  his  insinuating  system 
by  expressing  his  admiration  of  Mr.  Lazenby's 
paternal  solicitude  for  Grace's  comfort  and  hap- 
piness, lauding  the  justness  of  his  determination, 
and  announcing  his  own  ready  acquiescence  in 
the  proposed  plan.  All  he  feared  was,  that,  by 
some  unforeseen  circumstance,  some  unexpected 
denouement  at  Ringsworth,  the  history  of  his 
inconsiderate  brother's  rash  connexion  with  the 
Busbridges  might  reach  the  ears  of  the  Nabob 
pending  his  probation  :  having,  however,  nothing 
to  offer  against  the  arrangement,  he  chimed  in 
with  it  most  harmoniously. 

It  was,  as  I  said  before,  quite  clear  that  Mr. 
Lazenby  did  not  intend  to  advance  one  step  in 
the  negotiation  until  he  had  satisfied  himself  of 
the  real  state  of  his  child's  feelings  towards  the 
person  who    he  had  been  told  was    her  lover ; 


70  1HE    SUTHERLANDS. 

and  when  he  invited  James  to  dinner  at  seven 
o'clock,  adding  that  he  hoped  so  long  as  he 
stayed  in  town  he  would  consider  the  invitation 
general,  James  saw  that  the  conference  for  that 
morning  was  at  an  end,  and  accordingly  with- 
drew until  the  appointed  hour,  when  he  was  for 
the  first  time  to  be  domesticated  with  his  beloved 
Grace  and  her  opulent  sire. 

Never  perhaps  did  James  pass  a  happier 
morning  in  London  than  that  which  preceded 
this  opening  dinner  :  there  was  an  air  of  bonhoni- 
mie  about  the  Nabob,  singularly  contrasted  with 
the  peculiar  habits  and  tramontane  manners  of 
the  race  in  general :  he  appeared  as  if  he  had  al- 
ways moved  in  good  society,  and  had  as  little  of 
the  rust  of  the  resident  in  his  conduct,  as  of  sal- 
lowness  in  his  complexion  :  he  was  quite  a  phoe- 
nix of  an  Indian,  and  James  saw  in  his  candour 
and  amiable  solicitude  for  his  daughter,  an  ear- 
nest of  that  liberality  and  warmth  which  were  to 
crown  his  toils  and  assiduity  with  wealth  and 
happiness. 

At  seven,  James  entered  the  drawing-room  of 
his  father-in-law's  mansion,  and  there,  attended 
by  a  smart  middle-aged  lady,  well  rouged  and 
much   ringleted,   sat  his   beloved   Grace.     She 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  71 

received  him  mildly  and  placidly,  and  without 
the  smallest  emotion  allowed  him  to  shake  her 
cold  unclosed  hand,  without  indulging  even  in 
the  relaxation  of  a  smile,  and  introduced  him  to 
her  guardian-angel  Mrs.  Chatterton,  unblushing 
and  unabashed. 

From  the  embarrassment  which  any  other 
pair  of  lovers  would  have  felt,  the  volatile  chape- 
rone  speedily  relieved  this  devoted  couple :  she 
launched  into  an  animated  detail  of  their  morn- 
ing's drive,  their  visit  to  one  place,  their  call  at 
another ;  and  astonished  James  not  more  by  her 
own  excellent  spirits  and  vivacity  than  by  the 
striking  contrast  they  afforded  to  the  still  life  of 
his  Dulcinea. 

Just  before  dinner  Mr.  Lazenby  entered  the 
drawing-room,  attended  by  a  remarkably  hand- 
some, elegant,  well-dressed  man,  whom  he  intro- 
duced as  Colonel  Fitzmaurice,  and  who  made 
his  advances  to  the  ladies  with  an  air  and  manner 
little  calculated  to  gratify  the  vanity  or  soothe 
the  solicitude  of  James,  who  had  hoped  that  the 
party  would  have  been  strictly  confined  to  the 
family.  He  was  doomed,  however,  to  more  dis- 
appointments; for  almost  immediately  afterwards 
two  new  arrivals  were  announced — Mr,  Currv 


72  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

and  Mr.  Rice,  both  Directors  of  that  gigantic 
monopoly  which  rears  its  head  authoritatively  in 
Leadenhall  Street— old  friends  of  Lazenby,  who 
were  also  presented  to  the  young  mistress  of  the 
mansion,  and  then  to  James,  in  a  manner  which, 
it  must  be  confessed,  had  something  very  conso- 
latory in  it,  as  far  as  his  worldly  views  were  con- 
cerned, seeing  that  it  was  evidently  understood 
amongst  them  that  he  was  the  son-in-law  elect : 
indeed  some  observations  made,  loudly  enough 
for  him  to  hear,  convinced  him  that  these  friends 
had  been  collected  by  Mr.  Lazenby  to  canvass 
his  qualities  and  manners,  as  a  sporting  man 
musters  a  party  of  judges  to  descant  upon  the 
points  of  a  horse  which  he  has  formed  the 
design  of  purchasing. 

At  length  a  relief  to  James  was  sounded  in 
the  announcement  of  dinner ;  and  if  any  doubts 
had  remained  on  his  mind  as  to  the  real  inten- 
tions of  the  assembled  party,  they  would  have 
vanished,  when  Lazenby,  offering  his  arm  to  Mrs. 
Chatterton,  said  to  the  doubting  lover,  "  Mr. 
Sutherland,  will  you  take  care  of  Grace  ? — our 
other  friends  are  at  home," — this  sealed  the  affair, 
and  with  trembling  steps  he  led  his  fair  charge 
down  stairs,  the  Colonel  and  the  Directors  fol- 
lowing tardily,  the  tediousness  of  their  descent 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  73 

being  enlivened  by  sundry  observations  made 
amongst  themselves,  which  appeared,  by  the 
mirth  which  they  excited,  to  be  remarkably  en- 
tertaining. 

At  dinner  James  was  seated  next  his  amia- 
ble Grace,  and  during  the  repast  several  sly 
innuendoes  and  jests  were  bandied  about,  each 
tending  to  confirm  the  determination  of  all  par- 
ties as  to  the  ultimate  fate  of  our  speculator, 
whose  assiduities  were  received  by  Grace  with  a 
sort  of  negative  satisfaction,  occasionally  amount- 
ing to  something  almost  like  pleasure. 

Sutherland  could  not  but  duly  appreciate  the 
studied  reserve  of  the  gay  Colonel  towards  his 
intended.  Indeed,  so  scrupulously  cold  and 
distant  was  he  in  his  manner  towards  the  young 
lady,  that  James  thought  it  almost  approached 
to  rudeness :  even  the  elders  of  the  party  ap- 
peared to  his  anxious  eyes  to  treat  her  with  less 
attention  and  ceremony  than  he  then  felt  were 
due  to  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Lazenby,  and  which 
he  was  quite  sure  he  should  have  considered 
wholly  inadequate  to  the  claims  of  the  wife  of 
Mr.  James  Sutherland. 

Dinner  ended,  and  the  ladies  retired,  the  con- 
versation turned   upon   occurrences  long  since 

VOL.  I.  E 


74  THE    SUTHEKLANDS. 

past,  and  those  olden  times,  in  which  the  shak- 
ing of  the  pagoda-tree  was  an  operation  more 
generally  performed,  and  with  greater  success, 
than  in  these  modern  days  of  moderation  and 
economy ;  and  James,  of  whom  Colonel  Fitz- 
maurice  before-mentioned  took  not  the  smallest 
notice,  felt  himself  completely  "basketed1'  in 
the  midst  of  discussions  upon  the  relative  merits 
of  Civil  servants  of  the  East  India  Company, 
whose  names,  however  important  the  personages 
themselves  might  be  at  Bundelcund  or  Furruck- 
abad,  no  civilised  human  being  had  ever  by  any 
chance  heard  of  before. 

Fitzmaurice,  who  had  rather  pleased  James 
in  the  early  part  of  the  evening  by  his  delicate 
reserve  towards  Grace,  almost  excited  his  anger 
by  the  supercilious  manner  which  he  assumed 
towards  himself  as  it  grew  later ;  and  a  few  at- 
tempts made  at  conversation  with  him  having 
been  nipped  in  the  bud  by  the  unperturbed 
serenity  with  which  he  replied  to  James's 
remarks,  nothing  like  an  advance  of  their  ac- 
quaintance seemed  probable,  when  the  master 
of  the  house,  seeing  that  his  intended  son-in- 
law  was  uncomfortable,  which  his  manner  suffi- 
ciently proclaimed,  endeavoured  to    draw  him 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  75 

out  of  his  dilemma  into  the  debate,  by  asking 
him  if  his  brother's  wife  was  a  Scotchwoman. 

James  was  tremblingly  alive  to  any  discus- 
sion upon  this  ticklish  point,  and  replied  that  he 
believed  not — from  the  North,  but  not  Scotch. 

"  What  was  her  name  ?"  inquired  Lazenby. 

"  Bus — bridge,"  faltered  out  James,  in  a 
manner  studiously  slovenly,  in  the  hope  of  dis- 
guising her  patronymic,  so  that  it  might  be 
mistaken  for  Brasbridge,  or  Barbridge,  or  Bain- 
bridge,  or  any  bridge,  in  short,  but  that  which 
it  really  was. 

"  Busbridge,"  repeated  Mr.  Lazenby,  as 
dreadfully  correct  as  possible. 

"  'Gad  !w  said  Colonel  Fitzmaurice,  who  at 
length  seemed  disposed  to  join  in  the  conversa- 
tion, "  I  never  heard  that  name  but  once,  and  I 
had  no  idea  there  was"  any  family  of  distinction 
who  bore  it.  I  had  a  rascally  servant  with  me 
in  Flanders  of  the  name  of  Busbridge,  and 
placed  the  greatest  confidence  in  him.  The 
fellow,  one  night,  marched  off  during  my  ab- 
sence, carrying  with  him  two  or  three  snuff- 
boxes, a  picture  or  two,  and  upwards  of  a  hun- 
dred Napoleons.  I  set  the  police  after  him,  but 
he  escaped  me,  and  all  that  I  could  learn  was, 
e  2 


76  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

that  he  had  a  father  as  great  a  rogue  as  himself, 
and  that  there  was  a  large  family  of  them  quite 
as  bad,  and  that  the  female  part  of  the  group 
were  as  much  distinguished  for  their  virtues  as 
the  sons,  only  in  a  different  way.  However,  I 
saw  there  was  no  use  pursuing  the  thing,  and  so 
the  fellow  got  off  to  America." 

The  only  doubt  in  James's  mind  at  this  mo- 
ment was,  whether  the  Colonel  actually  knew  the 
history  of  the  birth,  parentage,  and  education  of 
his  vivacious  sister-in-law,  and  had  brought  for- 
ward this  anecdote  to  account  to  James  for  the 
hauteur  with  which  he  had  treated  him  during 
the  day;  or  whether  the  anecdote  was  acciden- 
tally introduced,  as  many  anecdotes  are  in  many 
places,  which,  of  all  others,  ought  not  for  the 
world  to  be  mentioned. 

James  smiled,  looked  awkward,  and  felt  ex- 
cessively sick.  Lazenby  made  an  observation 
upon  the  general  misconduct  of  servants,  and 
the  great  deterioration  every  thing  had  under- 
gone during  the  last  five-and-thirty  years  ;  in 
which  he  was  ably  seconded  by  one  of  the  im- 
portant members  of  Leadenhall-street,  to  all  of 
whose  dicta  James  most  complacently  assented  ; 


THE    SUTHER LANDS.  77 

wishing  himself,  it  must  be  confessed,  any  where 
but  where  he  was,  and  wishing  still  more  de- 
voutly that  the  gallant  Colonel  Fitzmaurice  had 
been  fighting  his  country's  battles  in  Flanders 
at  that  very  moment,  instead  of  dining  in  Port- 
land-place. 

A  thundering  knock  at  the  door  announced 
an  arrival — some  refreshers  for  the  evening. 
Colonel  Fitzmaurice  became  for  a  moment  sud- 
denly animated. 

"  Colonel,"  said  Lazenby,  "  that  is  your 
summon  s." 

The  Colonel  smiled  graciously,  looked  some 
unutterable  things,  and  began  to  wash  out  his 
mouth;  and  having  proceeded  to  clean  his 
teeth  with  the  napkin  deliberately  and  in 
detail,  he  wiped  his  hands,  folded  up  the 
towel,  and  depositing  it  upon  the  table,  there- 
by unconsciously  half  eclipsing  Jameses  plate, 
rose,  kissed  his  left  hand  to  the  master  of 
the  house,  and  retired  to  the  drawing-room. 

"  That  is  a  very  fine  young  man,1'  observed 
Mr.  Curry,  as  he  closed  the  door. 

"  Extremely  gentlemanly,"  rejoined  Mr. 
Rice. 

"  He   is    perfect,    I   think,"    said    Lazenby. 


78  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

"  Did  you  ever  meet  Colonel  Fitzmaurice  be- 
fore, Mr.  Sutherland  ?" 

"  Never,  sir,"  replied  James,  as  indeed  he 
thought  Mr.  Lazenby  might  have  surmised  by 
his  manner;  wishing,  moreover,  at  the  same 
time,  that  he  never  might  see  him  again. 

"  How  are  his  affairs  getting  on  ?"  enquired 
Mr.  Curry.     "  Is  he  recruiting  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Lazenby ;  "  there  are  trus- 
tees appointed,  and  the  property  is  at  nurse. 
Of  course,  when  he  comes  to  the  title,  his 
father's  entailed  estates  descend  to  him,  and  his 
object  is  to  keep  the  rest  of  the  property  wholly 
untouched  till  that  time;  he  is,  therefore, 
starving  himself  upon  some  two  or  three  thou- 
sand a-year  till  that  event  occurs,  which  I  am 
inclined  to  believe  cannot  be  very  far  distant." 

"  That  place  of  his  in  Gloucestershire  is  a 
beautiful  thing,'"  observed  Mr.  Rice. 

"  Magnificent  I"  said  Lazenby. 

"  When  was  his  father  created  a  Peer  ?"  en- 
quired Mr.  Curry. 

"  I  don't  exactly  know,  but  I  dare  say  Emma 
can  tell." 

"  Oh,  there  can  be  little  doubt  of  that?  re- 


THE    SUTHEHLANDS.  79 

plied  Mr.  Curry,  with  a  laugh,  which  evidently 
meant  something. 

Emma  ! — now  who  the  deuce  is  Emma? 
thought  James,  and  to  what  Barony  is  this 
man  heir  ?  and  why  is  Mr.  Lazenby  so  much 
interested  about  him  ? — These  were  all  impor- 
tant subjects  of  speculation  to  our  young  friend, 
from  the  consideration  of  which,  however,  and 
from  the  dinner-parlour,  he  was  summoned  in 
common  with  the  rest  of  the  party  to  coffee. 

When  they  entered  the  drawing-room,  James 
perceived,  in  addition  to  Grace  and  Mrs.  Chat- 
terton,  two  ladies  seated  on  the  sofa. — One  was 
old  and  haggard,  and  on  her  head  she  wore  a 
sable  velvet  hat,  loaded  with  plumes  of  feathers 
of  the  same  colour ;  in  her  ears  hung  pendent 
diamonds,  top  and  drop ;  around  her  shriveled 
neck  and  arms  were  displayed  a  brilliant  neck- 
lace and  bracelets  ;  purchased  roses  decked  her 
furrowed  cheeks,  and  borrowed  ringlets  revelled 
on  her  wrinkled  forehead.  In  heaps  upon  her 
parchment  bosom  lay  the  modest  lily  pulverized, 
which,  contrasted  with  her  old  and  bilious- 
looking  point-lace  tucker,  produced  upon  the  an- 
cient skin  it  was  intended  to  adorn,  a  similar 


80  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

effect  to  that  which  assiduous  poulterers  impart 
to  breasts  of  venerable  ducks  and  geese  before 
they  despatch  them  to  their  customers. 

This  lady  was  Mrs.  Fisherton.  At  her  side 
sat  a  young  creature,  flirting  assiduously  with 
James's  bane,  the  Honourable  Colonel,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  her  devoted  cavalier,  and  who  was 
leaning  backward  on  the  sofa,  listening  listlessly 
to  her  agreeable  observations. 

She  was  somewhat  above  the  ordinary  height 
of  women,  her  profile  strictly  Grecian,  her  figure 
perfect  symmetry,  her  eyes  full  of  expression, 
her  manners  full  of  grace  and  elegance.  There 
was  a  look  of  talent  in  her  countenance ;  and 
lighted  up  as  it  was  by  the  animated  conversa- 
tion in  which  she  was  engaged  with  Fitzmaurice, 
it  beamed  upon  James  as  something  of  another 
world.  It  must  be  owned  that  the  effect  of  con- 
trast, as  Grace  sat  opposite  to  her,  was  more 
striking  than  satisfactory  to  our  young  lover. 

This  was  Emma, — the  elder  lady's  daughter. 

"  Sutherland,1'  said  Mr.  Lazenby  familiarly 
and  with  a  patronizing  air,  leading  him  to  the 
sparkling  matron,  "  This  is  my  sister,  Mrs. 
Fisherton, — This,  Anne,"  continued  he,  "  is  Mr, 
Sutherland." 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  81 

Mrs.  Fisherton  bowed  her  head  courteously, 
and  the  diamonds  glittered  in  her  ears,  and  the 
plumes  waved  over  her  head. 

The  name  of  Sutherland  caught  the  ears  of 
Emma ;  and  as  James  was  undergoing  the  awful 
ceremony  of  introduction  to  the  dowager,  the 
lovely  girl  turned  herself  round,  and  hastily  sur- 
veying him  turned  back  again  towards  Fitzmau- 
rice  and  said  something,  the  purport  of  which 
nobody  except  the  Colonel  heard — his  exclama- 
tion of  "  Capital  !"  however,  proclaimed  that  it 
must  have  been  of  a  somewhat  piquante  nature. 

"  Emma,11  said  Mr.  Lazenby,  "  allow  me  to 
present  Mr.  Sutherland  to  you." 

Emma,  suddenly  recovering  from  the  languid 
lounge  in  which  she  had  been  indulging,  and 
drawing  her  fine  features  into  a  freezing  state  of 
decorum,  rose  from  her  seat,  and  made  Mr.  Su- 
therland a  curtsey  so  profound  and  serious  that 
it  entirely  overcame  the  rustic  swain,  who,  step- 
ping backward  to  return  her  salutation  with  a 
graceful  bow,  most  wofully  disturbed  the  eco- 
nomy of  a  salver  of  Sevre  coffee-cups,  with 
which  a  servant  was  approaching  the  Colonel. 
The  confusion  arising  from  this  little  contretemps 
was  quite  amusing  to  Emma,  who  had  previously 
e   5 


82  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

perceived  what  must  inevitably  happen,  but 
who  was  too  well-bred  to  allow  any  possible 
danger  to  interfere  with  the  due  performance  of 
the  ceremony  in  which  she  was  engaged. 

The  eclat  produced  by  this  momentary  disas- 
ter having  a  little  subsided,  James,  who  felt  all 
his  fortitude  unequal  to  any  further  progress  in 
an  acquaintance  with  Miss  Fisherton,  seated 
himself  beside  his  Grace,  and  began,  in  an  under- 
tone, that  sort  of  conversation  in  which  he  was 
wont  to  indulge  at  "  Belmont  Establishment." 
Made  the  most  minute  enquiries  after  his  fair 
one's  health,  and  whether  she  had  been  troubled 
with  the  tooth-ache  lately, — asked  when  she  had 
heard  from  Mrs.  Trainer, — wondered  how  her 
favourite  black  cat  was,  and  recalled  to  her  recol- 
lection some  interesting  incidents /vhich  had  oc- 
curred at  the  Establishment,  in  which  the  said 
cat  and  a  spaniel  of  his  own  were  principally 
concerned.  Grace,  who  was  fully  adequate  to 
this  sort  of  colloquy,  answered  all  his  questions 
with  a  calm  precision  and  an  amiable  insensibi- 
lity, which  he,  unaccustomed  to  the  ways  of  the 
world,  attributed  entirely  to  un sophistication 
and  amiability ;  he  was  doomed,  however,  soon 
to  learn  the  difference  which  exists  between  the 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  83 

style  of  conversation  which  his  fair  one  adopted, 
and  that  in  which  such  girls  as  Emma  Fisherton 
are  pleased  occasionally  to  indulge. 

"  Emma,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Fisherton, 
"  what  were  the  names  of  those  people  we  met 
at  dinner  at  Lord  George^s  on  Tuesday  ?" 

"  Whom  do  you  mean,  Ma  ?"  said  Emma, 
— "  that  hideous  old  woman  with  the  horrid 
daughters  Y" 

"  I  mean  the  girl  you  nick-named  Medusa,,, 
said  the  venerable  parent. 

"  Oh  !  I  quite  forget  what  they  call  them- 
selves,— the  brother  was  exquisite  ! — I  never 
saw  such  a  person  in  my  life ;  he  sat  next  me 
at  dinner,  and  kept  pressing  me  to  eat,  as  if  I 
should  have  said  no  if  I  meant  yes  ; — he  asked 
me  to  drink  Mine,  and  when  I  had  got  a  large 
glass  full  of  some  dreadful  Madeira,  I  think  it 
was  called,  he  kept  making  enquiries  every  five 
minutes  why  I  did  not  finish  it  ? — and  asked  if 
I  did  not  like  wine,  and  whether  I  would  have 
any  other  ?™ 

"  I  think  they  were  called  Hogman,"  said 
Mrs.  Fisherton. 

"  Hogman  was  the  name,  my  dear  Ma,"  re- 
plied Emma.  "  I  wish  you  had  been  there,"  con- 


84  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

tinued  the  vivacious  girl,  turning  to  the  Colonel, 
"  you  would  have  died  with  laughing  at  the 
whole  party.  I  cannot  imagine  how  dear  Lady 
George  can  allow  Lord  George  to  have  such 
people  to  the  house.  I  asked  the  beau  of  the 
family  whether  he  was  at  Almack's  last  Wednes- 
day ? — He  said  '  No,  but  that  he  was  there  on 
Friday.1 — '  Friday,1  said  I,  s  surely  there  was  no 
assembly  that  evening  ?'—  and  what  do  you  think 
he  answered? — '  Oh !  yes,  Miss!!!  there  was 
The  Caledonian  Assembly,  for  I  was  at  it  P  " 

A  burst  of  laughter  at  the  savage  ignorance  of 
the  unfortunate  Mr.  Hogman  rang  through  the 
saloon. 

"  I  am  sure,""  said  Mrs.  Fisherton,  **  I  really 
thought  I  should  have  expired,  as  I  told  Lady 
George  the  moment  they  were  gone,  with 
watching  the  poor  young  man  at  dinner — the 
agony  he  underwent  in  eating  so  as  not  to  dis- 
turb the  economy  of  his  dress! — do  you  know  it 
really  seemed  to  me  as  if  he  had  no  tie  in  the 
world  he  valued  half  so  much  as  his  neck- 
cloth r 

"  And  the  quantity  he  ate  P'  rejoined  Emma, 
"  it  reminded  me  of  the  day  aunt  Jane  took 
me  to  an  Easter  dinner  at  the  Mansion-house, 
somewhere  in  the  city  P 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  85 

"  What  were  the  girls  like  ?"  enquired  the 
Honourable  Colonel  Fitzmaurice,  without  en- 
tirely opening  either  his  eyes  or  his  mouth,  and 
without  moving  one  muscle,  or,  as  it  seemed, 
earing  one  straw  whether  his  question  was  even 
answered  or  not. 

"  Vulgar  beyond  measure !"  said  Emma, 
"  with  very  thick  red  elbows,  and  skin  like 
nutmeg-graters,  dressed  exactly  after  the  prints 
in  the  Ladies  Magazine,  and  smelling  horridly 
of  musk." 

A  general  groan  resounded.  "  Monsters  V* 
ejaculated  the  Colonel;  and  turning  suddenly 
round  to  James  Sutherland,  to  whom  he  had 
never  thought  proper  previously  to  address  one 
syllable,  said  in  a  patronizing  tone,  "  Mr.  Su- 
therland, are  you  fond  of  music  ?" 

The  abruptness  of  the  question  startled 
James,  who,  however,  recovering  from  the  sur- 
prise of  the  moment,  answered  in  the  affirmative, 
concluding  that  Grace  was  the  object  of  attack, 
and  that  the  Colonel  was  anxious  to  draw  her 
out  and  exhibit  her  accomplishments  on  the 
piano-forte. 

"  Miss  Fisherton,"  said  Fitzmaurice,  "  here  is 
a  suppliant  swain, — Mr.  Sutherland  is  dying  to 
hear  your  harp.1' 


86 


THE    SUTHERLANDS. 


Emma  bowed  with  affected  civility  and  evi- 
dent disdain  towards  James,  who  felt  ready  to 
sink  through  the  floor,  conscious  that  he  had 
said  nothing  about  it,  and  that  he  would  rather 
have  died  than  take  the  liberty  of  making  such 
a  request. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  she,  addressing  her- 
self in  reply  entirely  to  the  Colonel,  "  I  would, 
but  Rossini  tells  me  that  I  spoil  his  music  by 
embellishing  it  too  much, — and  I  am  quite  cross 
with  him,  and  have  vowed  not  to  sing  any 
more." 

"  The  man  is  unwarrantably  discontented,  as 
I  take  it,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  and  we  defy  him  : 
— Come,  Miss  Fisherton, — let  me  lead  you  to  the 
harp  ?" 

"  No,  no,  we  shall  disturb  the  whist  people, * 
said  Emma,  who  had,  ten  minutes  before,  made 
up  her  mind  to  astonish  James  Sutherland  with 
her  playing,  and  had  already  drawn  off  her 
gloves  for  that  express  purpose. 

"  The  whist  people,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  will 
never  hear  one  note  of  it." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Emma  to  the  Colonel 
in  a  half-whisper,  as  if  making  a  flattering  con- 
fidence :   "  the  only  reason  why  I  don't  like  my 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  87 

uncle's  arrangements  here,  is  their  always  hav- 
ing that  doleful  rubber  !" 

"  Upon  my  honour,  it  is  an  extraordinary 
propensity,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  And  they  don't  play  shorts  !"  added  Emma. 

"  Good  Gad  !*  ejaculated  Fitzmaurice. — 
"  Come  then,  if  that  is  really  the  case,  never 
mind  them.     What  does  it  signify  !" 

"  You  play,  Grace,"  said  Emma,  kindly,  to 
her  cousin,  "  don't  you  !" 

"  Oh  !  very  little  indeed,"  answered  the  timid 
unassuming  Grace. 

"  Come,  come,"  continued  the  Colonel,  coax- 
ingly  and  winningly  ;  at  the  same  time  gently 
pressing  the  fair  creature  towards  the  instru- 
ment, and  seeming  to  think  that  any  thing  like 
courtesy  or  attention  to  the  young  lady  of  the 
house  was  quite  superfluous — "  Come,  come," 
and  so  saying  continuously,  with  different  into- 
nations, he  gently  forced  her,  ("  nothing  loth," 
it  must  be  owned,)  towards  the  harp. 

Emma,  after  this  pretty,  interesting  display 
of  reluctance,  proceeded  to  her  pedestal,  and  ra- 
pidly striking  a  few  chords,  in  a  manner  calcu- 
lated to  give  the  impression  of  her  being  a  first- 
rate  performer,  she  began,  first  to  discover  that 


88  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

her  fingers  were  cold,  then  that  the  harp  was 
dreadfully  out  of  tune,  then  that  it  was  a  dread- 
ful harp,  then  that  she  had  no  music,  and  then 
again  that  she  should  disturb  the  card-players  ; 
till,  after  a  certain  quantity  of  pressing  and  en- 
treating, she  at  length  began  an  air  and  variations, 
which  she  executed  with  the  most  surprising  and 
tormenting  brilliancy.  The  sound  of  the  instru- 
ment brought  back  Mrs.  Chatterton,  who  had  re- 
tired to  watch  the  whist,  in  order  to  give  the 
two  pair  of  lovers  fair  time  and  opportunity 
to  carry  on  their  little  flirtations, — a  favour 
which  James,  who  was  chiefly  employed  in 
watching  Miss  Fisherton,  did  not  appear  either 
duly  to  appreciate,  or  properly  to  avail  himself 
of.  Emma,  however,  grew  enthusiastic :  she 
played  and  played  incessantly,  with  the  Colonel 
languishing  on  one  side  of  her  and  Mrs.  Chat- 
terton on  the  other,  until  past  midnight,  when 
her  mother's  carriage  was  announced. 

Mrs.  Chatterton  could  not  avoid  noticing  the 
reserve  of  James  and  Grace,  who  hardly  ex- 
changed a  syllable  during  this  lengthened  exhi- 
bition, Grace  having  nothing  particular  to  say; 
and  James  being  sufficiently  ignorant  of  the 
ways  of  the  world  to  imagine  it  necessary  to 


THE    SUTHERLANDS. 


89 


keep  silence  during  a  musical  performance, 
whereas  in  fact,  as  every  body  knows,  the  first 
chord  of  a  young  lady's  harp  is  the  established 
and  recognised  signal  for  the  commencement  of 
general  conversation. 

The  cloying  kindness  of  these  amateur  exhi- 
bitors is  actually  overcoming ;  for  when  once 
the  first  painful  ceremony  of  solicitation  is  over, 
once  the  "  premier  pas"  taken,  (and  ce  n'est  que 
le  premier  pas  qui  coiiie")  their  liberality  is  un- 
bounded, and  whole  books  full  of  charming 
morceaux  are  gone  through  with  a  persevering 
assiduity,  which  nothing  but  the  happy  an- 
nouncement of  carriages,  or  the  absolute  defec- 
tion of  the  majority  of  the  party  can  possibly 
put  a  stop  to. 

James,  at  the  conclusion  of  Miss  Fisherton's 
performance,  thought  it  but  right  to  declare  that 
he  had  never  heard  any  thing  so  delightful  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  life ;  Grace  protested  that 
it  was  perfection.  Mrs.  Chatterton  exclaimed, 
and  the  Colonel  vowed,  and  every  body  thought 
the  matter  ended ; — but  they  were  deceived  ;  for 
the  rubber  being  concluded,  Mr.  Lazenby  beg- 
ged Emma  to  give  him  only  three  things,  the 
Persian  Air,  the  Palanquin-bearer's  Song,  and 


90  THE    SUTHEltLANDS. 

the  Nautch  dance,  which  he  had  got  at  Futty- 
ghur,  all  of  which  were  duly  performed,  to  the 
infinite  delight  of  Messrs.  Curry  and  Rice, 
whose  juvenility  seemed  to  return  at  the  sound 
of  the  discordant  jingling  which  fell  upon  their 
ears ;  and  innumerable  jokes  and  allusions 
(which  fortunately  were  wholly  unintelligible  to 
the  profane)  passed  between  the  trio  of  retired 
nabobs. 

At  length  the  moment  of  separation  came ; 
carriages  were  called  up,  and  the  ladies  retired. 
Mr.  Lazenby  beckoned  James  aside,  and 
begged  to  see  him  at  one  the  next  day,  adding 
that  he  had  no  doubt  that  the  ladies  would  en- 
list him  under  their  banners  for  the  rest  of  the 
morning.  The  Rajah  also  invited  him  specially 
to  dinner.  James,  quite  delighted  with  these  in- 
dubitable proofs  of  the  Burrah  Saab's  good  opi- 
nion and  kind  intentions  towards  him,  took 
leave,  and  on  his  departure,  fancied  that  he 
extorted  something  like  a  smile  of  approbation 
from  Miss  Lazenby :  he  took  her  little  cold 
hand,  as  usual,  within  his  own,  and  pressed  it — 
in  vain — it  dropped  from  his  grasp  as  if  it  had 
been  lifeless,  and  he  quitted  the  house  with 
all  Emma's   beauties  dancing  before  his  eyes, 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  91 

thinking,  charming  as  she  actually  was,  how 
much  more  agreeable  Grace  would  be  if  she 
were  but  a  little  more  animated. 

Such  dreams  James  enjoyed  ;  such  congenial 
visions  flitted  before  him  in  his  slumbers  ;  such 
reflections  cheered  his  waking  moments,  as  are 
indescribable  :  the  splendour  and  magnificence 
of  style  in  which  his  father-in-law  lived;  the 
prospect  not  only  of  participating  in  all  the 
luxuries  of  his  establishment,  and  all  the  gaieties 
of  his  parties  during  his  life-time,  but  of  ac- 
tually and  entirely  possessing  the  wealth,  and 
the  enjoyments  which  wealth  produces,  after  the 
old  gentleman's  retirement  to  another  and  a 
better  world ;  the  calculations  which  he  lay 
making  as  to  the  most  economical  mode  of  keep- 
ing up  a  great  appearance  ;  the  resolutions  he 
formed  as  to  what  sum  he  should  receive  down 
by  way  of  portion ;  the  consideration  where  he 
should  fix  his  residence ;  the  manner  in  which 
he  should  behave  towards  his  brother,  under 
the  circumstances  of  his  unfortunate  connexion 
with  the  Busbridges,  of  whose  family,  he  had 
not  the  slightest  doubt,  Colonel  Fitzmaurice's 
rascally  valet  was  actually  a  worthy  member ; 
what    number    of     servants    he  should    keep ; 


92  THE    SUTHERLAXDS. 

what  horses,  what  carriages  : — all  these  mo- 
mentous concerns  kept  his  mind  in  active  em- 
ployment ;  and  it  was  not  till  near  eleven  that 
he  found  himself  at  breakfast  in  the  New  Hum- 
mums  coffee-room. 

The  post  arrived,  and  brought  letters  from 
Bath  and  from  Ringsworth.  That  from  his 
sister  was  full  of  tender  solicitude  about  him, 
and  of  apprehension  as  to  George's  comfort. 
The  dreadful  absence  of  all  intellectual  wealth, 
Jane  thought,  would  of  itself  blight  the  bright 
prospect  of  happiness ;  but  the  actual  substi- 
tution of  sensuality  for  sentiment, — evident 
signs  of  which  had  displayed  themselves  in 
Mrs.  George's  Sutherland's  conduct  and  cha- 
racter during  the  stay  of  her  mother-in-law 
and  Jane  at  Ringsworth, — must,  as  the  anxious 
girl  was  convinced,  produce  certain  misery.  The 
old  lady  and  her  daughter,  however,  were  in 
good  health,  and  most  anxious  to  hear  more  of 
James,  and,  through  him,  of  George  ;  for  the 
head  of  the  house  was  but  an  indifferent  cor- 
respondent, and  held  letter-writing,  when  the 
writer  had  nothing  to  say,  a  work  of  super- 
erogation. 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  93 

That  being  the  avowed  principle  of  Mr. 
George  Sutherland,  James  was  assured,  when 
he  saw  a  letter  from  his  brother,  that  something 
actually  had  happened,  which  he  considered  of 
importance  ;  and  all  the  apprehension  he  felt 
in  breaking  the  seal  of  the  despatch  from  Rings- 
worth  was,  that  some  event  had  occurred  in  the 
menage  which  might  possibly  interfere  with  his 
own  views  and  prospects.  But,  as  he  read  the 
following  description  of  his  brother's  unhap- 
piness,  and  ascertained  that  his  distress  did  not 
immediately  affect  his  own  interests,  he  became 
gradually  relieved  from  his  needless  perturbation 
and  groundless  apprehensions.  The  letter  ran 
as  follows : 

<<  Ringsworth,  June  8th. 

"  Dear  James, — To  be  laughed  at  when 
one  means  to  be  serious  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the 
most  painful  things  in  the  world.  I  seldom 
have  tried  to  put  on  grave  airs  or  sad  looks ; 
but  whenever  I  have  made  the  attempt  I  have 
generally  failed.  At  this  very  moment  I  ho- 
nestly declare  to  you  that  I  am  suffering  deeply 
and  bitterly  ;  and  yet  I  am  sure,  when  you  read 


94  THE    SUTHER  LANDS. 

the  detail  of  my  distresses,  you  will  laugh 
at  me,  and  say — truly  enough — that  I  have 
brought  them  all  upon  myself. 

"  If  I  had  attended  to  the  counsel  of  a  younger 
brother — younger  in  years,  but  much  my  senior 
in  wisdom — I  should  now  have  been,  as  you,  I 
trust,  will  shortly  be, — happy,  and  comfortably 
and  respectably  established  in  the  world, — but 
I  have  ever  been  the  giddy,  foolish,  hare-brained 
fellow  you  used  to  call  me.  Why,  why,  my 
dear  James,  did  not  you  go  with  me  to  that  in- 
fernal watering-place  ?  had  you  been  at  my 
elbow,  I  am  sure  I  should  have  been  spared  all 
this." 

Very  true,  thought  James;  but  then,  per- 
haps, I  should  have  lost  Grace  Lazenby  by 
the  trip ;  and  so  he  philosophically  satisfied 
himself  with  the  prudence  of  his  conduct, 
which,  in  all  probability,  had  been  the  cause 
of  his  brother's  ruin.  He  sipped  his  tea, 
buttered  a  new  square  of  toast,  ate  a  bit,  and 
recommenced  reading. 

"  In  the  first  place,  dear  James,  Emily's 
father  has  written  to  me,  recounting  all  the  cir- 
cumstances of  that  abominable  affair  at  Liver- 
pool,  informing  me   that    he    is   at    Lancaster 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  95 

tread-mill,  living  upon  oatmeal  porridge,  and 
a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  cheese  weekly ;  that  his 
Sunday's  dinner  is  half  a  pound  of  boiled  beef ; 
and  that  he  has  to  mount  thirty-eight  times  the 
height  of  the  Monument  daily.  The  favour 
he  asks  is,  that  I  will  make  interest  to  get  him 
speedily  transported,  according  to  his  sentence. 
Only  consider,  my  dear  James,  the  head  of  the 
Sutherlands  of  Ringsworth  making  interest 
with  Mr.  Peel  to  get  his  father-in-law  trans- 
ported by  way  of  a  personal  favour  !  What 
am  I  to  do  ? — It  is  a  question  I  cannot  myself 
answer ;  but  these  foreign  difficulties,  as  I  con- 
sider them,  are  inferior,  in  point  of  personal 
inconvenience,  to  the  disarrangements  of  my 
domestic  affairs.  The  Major  and  the  Lieu- 
tenant were  so  extremely  careless  in  their  con- 
duct towards  my  wife's  sisters,  that  the  maid- 
servants would  not  stay  in  the  family  ;  poor 
old  Winter  the'  housekeeper  has  actually  left 
me ;  and  even  this,  my  dear  James,  is  not  all 
— poor  Carr,  my  father's  faithful  Carr,  my  ex- 
cellent Carr,  is  dead — the  late  hours  and  bus- 
tle brought  on  a  fever,  and  he  is  at  this  moment 
lying  on  the  bed  he  had  for  fifty-two  years 
occupied  in  this  house,  a  corpse. 


96  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

"  All  this  has  occurred  in  the  course  of  the 
few  days  since  your  departure  ;  which,  I  verily 
believe,  brought  things  to  a  crisis,  for  certainly 
the  girls  stood  more  in  awe  of  you  than  of  any 
body  else.  I  have  been  forced  to  beg  them  to 
leave  us,  and  they  are  gone  with  their  friends, 
the  Major  and  the  Lieutenant,  on  a  tour.  The 
thing,  my  dear  James,  is  too  glaring  to  be 
concealed;  and  however  much  I  may  dislike 
completely  c  knocking  under*  to  my  younger 
brother,  I  am  obliged  to  admit  my  folly  and 
indiscretion,  and  apply  to  you  for  advice  in  my 
present  very  delicate  circumstances. 

"  Emily  herself  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  : 
she  is  good-natured,  and  has  acceded  to  my 
wish,  that  she  should  part  with  her  maid  Tra- 
cey,  whose  connexion  with  her  I  thought  a 
sufficient  reason  for  her  removal.  I  have  set- 
tled eighty  pounds  a-year  upon  her,  and  I  made 
the  two  girls  presents  of  two  hundred  pounds 
each  at  Emily's  solicitation,  and,  indeed,  as  a 
sort  of  bribe  to  get  rid  of  them ;  for  their  con- 
duct was  unbearable,  particularly  for  the  last 
two  days.  I  lost  about  seventy  guineas  to  the 
Major  at  billiards,  and  about  twice  as  much  to 
the  Lieutenant  at  ecarte,  but  I  have  no   sus- 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  97 

picion  of  unfairness  :  indeed,  if  I  had,  I  should 
submit ;  for  my  only  chance  is  to  keep  the  nu- 
merous branches  of  Emily's  family  in  good  hu- 
mour, and  prevent  any  explosion.  My  present 
intention,  if  I  can  prevail  upon  her  to  agree  to 
it,  is  to  visit  the  Continent,  and  remain  abroad 
for  some  time.  I  hate  France,  and  detest  Italy, 
but  I  think  any  place  better  than  the  neigh- 
bourhood where  I  am  known  ;  for  so  much  has 
transpired  through  the  gossiping  of  servants, 
that  none  of  our  friends  will  visit  us ;  and  I  could 
not  endure  the  coldness  with  which  they  re- 
turned my  wife's  acknowledgments  after  church, 
so  that  my  invariable  rule  of  attending  Divine 
service  has,  for  the  last  three  weeks,  been 
broken  through,  and  the  benefit  of  a  good  ex- 
ample lost  to  my  tenants : — but  what  is  to  be 
done  ? 

"  I  have  been  thinking  that,  were  we  to  go 
abroad,  you,  perhaps,  would  like  to  occupy 
Ringsworth ;  if  so,  my  dear  James,  it  is  quite 
at  your  service.  Should  it  be  agreeable  to 
you,  instead  of  letting  it,  (as  I  at  one  time  in- 
tended,) and  removing  or  selling  the  furniture, 
&c.  it  shall  be  entirely  at  your  service,  for 
whatever  time  you  may  choose  to   occupy  it, 

VOL,  I.  F 


98  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

and  I  shall  leave  the  library,  the  cellar,  and 
the  stable,  furnished  for  your  use :  tell  me  if 
they  will  be  acceptable,  and  whether  you  ap- 
prove of  my  Continental  scheme.  I  own  it  has 
very  much  the  air  of  a  break-up,  but  the  mis- 
fortune is  entirely  of  my  own  seeking,  and  I 
shall,  at  all  events,  feel  happier,  if  you  oc- 
cupy the  old  house  than  a  stranger,  and  your 
fortune  (if  you  marry  Miss  Lazenby,)  will  fully 
justify  your  doing  so.  Turn  these  things  in 
your  mind,  and  then  write  to  me  at  your  first 
leisure  moment ;   and  believe  me, 

My  dear  James,  always 
Your  affectionate  Brother, 

George  Sutherland." 
"  P.  S. — I   have    had    good   accounts   from 
Bath  so  late  as  the  5th." 

"  The  Continental  plan,"  said  James  to  him- 
self, as  he  folded  up  the  letter,  "  is  an  excellent 
plan.  In  the  first  place  it  will  leave  me  Rings- 
worth,. — and  Rings  worth  is  the  very  sort  of  thing 
I  wanted ;  and  the  horses,  and  the  wines,  and 
the  books,  are  so  many  additional  agremens 
which  I  could  not    expect    to   find   anywhere 


THE    SUTHEItLANDS.  99 

else  ;  and  then,  besides,  my  brother's  absence 
from  England  will  secure  me  from  any  of  the 
importunities  of  his  wife's  relations,  and  all 
difficulty  about  the  introduction  of  Grace  to 
the  set  will  be  got  over." 

James,  in  the  midst  of  these  pleasing  calcula- 
tions, however,  lamented  the  unnecessary  gift  of 
two  hundred  pounds  to  the  girls,  and  regretted 
the  death  of  Carr,  particularly  just  at  this  junc- 
ture ;  because,  beyond  the  natural  affection 
which  he  bore  him,  he  knew  that  he  was  ac- 
counted a  very  prudent  and  careful  servant,  and 
had  not  during  forty  years  raised  his  wages* 
which  James  felt  inclined  to  believe  were  infi- 
nitely more  moderate  than  those  demanded  by 
the  ordinary  run  of  butlers  of  the  present  day. 

James  resolved,  therefore,  upon  counselling 
his  brother  speedily  to  put  into  execution  his 
design  of  travelling,  and  had  hardly  finished  his 
breakfast  before  he  wrote  his  acknowledgments 
for  the  offer  of  Ringsworth,  and  his  acceptance 
of  it :  having  prepared  which  for  the  post,  he 
proceeded  by  appointment  to  Portland  Place, 
where  he  hoped  the  exemplary  tenant  of  the 
mansion  would  come  to  something  like  business; 
although,  it  must  be  confessed,  his  own  expressed 
f2 


100  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

desire  of  seeing  a  little  of  James  before  he  de- 
cided, somewhat  lessened  the  hope  of  any  thing 
conclusive  in  the  present  stage  of  the  acquaint* 
ance. 

Mr.  Lazenby,  however,  received  Sutherland 
with  much  warmth  and  cordiality — told  him 
that  his  old  friends  Curry  and  Rice  were  quite 
pleased  with  the  sentiments  which  in  the  course 
of  the  day  he  had  expressed  ;  that  he  was  him- 
self obliged  again  to  leave  town ;  that  the  place 
of  his  destination  was  Cheltenham;  that  he 
should  return  in  a  few  days :  and  in  the  mean 
time  begged  James  to  consider  Portland-place 
his  pied  a  terre ;  recommended  his  removal  from 
the  Hummums  to  some  hotel  in  that  neighbour- 
hood, and  threw  out  that,  except  a  sleeping- 
room,  every  accommodation  would  be  afforded 
him  in  his  house  ;  and  that,  in  short,  under  the 
tutelage  of  Mrs.  Chatterton,  Grace  was  to  be 
placed  in  his  charge. 

"  At  the  end  of  the  week,"  added  the  indul- 
gent father,  "  I  shall  return ;  and  then,  Mr. 
Sutherland,  I  hope  we  shall  make  such  arrange- 
ments as  may  be  satisfactory  to  all  parties." 

Saying  which,  after  squeezing  his  hand  in  the 
most   cordial   manner,     he   led   him   up-stairs, 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  101 

where,  in  the  back  drawing-room,  tiffin  was 
prepared,  consisting  of  a  variety  of  European 
and  Asiatic  dishes,  every  thing  warm  to  excess 
except  Miss  Lazenby  herself,  who  looked  as 
prim  and  as  demure  as  ever.  Her  light  hair 
formally  parted  over  her  forehead,  her  little  frill 
as  regularly  plaited  as  if  it  had  been  marble, 
her  cold  pink  hands,  and  her  cold  pale  cheeks, 
and  her  slate-coloured  gown,  and  her  lead-co- 
loured boots,  and  her  russet  sash, — what  with 
their  chilliness  and  their  preciseness,  gave  her 
the  appearance  of  an  iced  milliner :  however,  to 
James's  eye  she  seemed  all  sense  and  sensibility, 
for  he  loved  the  diffident  divinity  whose  silence 
is  eloquence,  and  whose  timidity  is  conquest. 

"  Grace,  my  dear,"  said  the  Nabob,  "  the 
carriage  is  at  the  door,  and  therefore,  under 
the  awful  sanction  of  Mrs.  Chatterton,  I  resign 
you  to  the  special  guardianship  of  Mr.  Suther- 
land." 

Any  other  girl  would  have  blushed  up  to  the 
eyes  at  such  a  speech ;  instead  of  which  Grace 
smiled  just  sufficiently  to  show  the  lower  half 
of  her  upper  teeth,  and  inclined  her  head  slan- 
tingly,— said  nothing,  and  looked  another  way. 

"  There    is    the    box    at    the    Opera     for 


102  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

Saturday,  Mrs.  Chatterton,"  said  Mr.  Lazenby, 
"  and  Mr.  Rice's  pew  at  the  New  Mary  la- 
bonne  church  on  Sunday.  I  leave  Evans  and 
the  barouche ;  so  that  you  will  find  all  arrange- 
ments made.  And  as  for  you,  Mr.  Sutherland, 
you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  direct  my  esta- 
blishment— they  have  their  orders  to  obey  your 
commands.1' 

Overwhelmed  with  the  kindness  of  the  white 
Rajah,  James  hardly  knew  how  to  express  his 
acknowledgments;  and  before  he  could  suffi- 
ciently collect  himself  to  make  a  speech,  his 
magnificent  father-in-law  had  tenderly  em- 
braced Grace,  after  which  shaking  hands,  with 
Mrs.  Chatterton  and  the  intended  husband  of 
his  child,  he  descended  the  staircase  on  his  way 
to  Cheltenham. 

To  attempt  to  describe  James's  sensations 
when  he  recovered  from  his  surprise  and  rap- 
ture, and  found  himself  actually  acting-grand- 
master of  the  mansion  in  Portland-place,  is  far 
beyond  my  feeble  powers.  The  only  drawback 
in  his  mind  (and  it  flashed  across  it  immediate- 
ly,) was  the  necessity,  which  he  apprehended 
he  should  be  under,  of  tipping  the  servants; 
however   lie   calculated    that   it  would   not   be 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  lOtf 

essential  to  do  so  in  the  outset,  and  that,  at  all 
events,  his  other  expenses  would  be  so  cur- 
tailed by  his  residence  at  his  father-in-law's,  as  to 
make  a  pretty  fair  show  on  the  credit  side  of  his 
imaginary  account. 

His  gratitude,  however,  to  Mrs.  Trainer  was 
strong ;  he  felt  that  to  her  recommendatory  let- 
ter more  was  owing  than  to  any  thing  else,  and 
as  he  wished  at  once  to  write  to  her  to  thank 
her  for  the  progress  he  had  made  in  his  matri- 
monial campaign,  he  took  the  opportunity  of 
inclosing  a  note  to  his  servant,  begging  her  to 
allow  her  boy  to  step  with  it  to  Ringsworth- 
house,  thereby  saving  the  amount  of  postage, 
which  his  man  would  naturally  have  charged 

him;    and     thus   economicallv     convevinr?    hi* 

^     .j — 0    — 

commands  to  the  said  man  to  come  up  to  town 
— a  measure  of  which  he  now  saw  the  utility, 
inasmuch  as  the  domestic  would  of  course  fol- 
low the  example  of  his  master,  and  quarter 
himself  in  the  servants'  hall  of  that  house, 
whose  first  table  was  under  the  immediate  di- 
rection of  his  immediate  superior. 

It  would  be  matter  of  no  amusement  to  the 
worldly  reader  to  narrate  how  James  carried  on 
the  war  during  the  few  days  in  which  his  father- 


104  THE    SUTHEELANDS. 

in-law  was  absent,  nor  to  detail  how  he  mounted 
the  snowy  stairs  of  the  Opera  House,  escorting 
the  lively  widow  and  the  pallid  virgin  to  their 
box  on  the  first  circle,  or  how  he  squeezed 
through  the  room  and  bustled  down  to  the  hall 
to  call  up  Miss  Lazenby's  carriage ;  it  would 
not  add  to  the  entertainment  of  my  readers  to 
depict  the  devoted  lover  in  the  pew  of  our 
wealthy  and  yellow  friend  Mr.  Rice  at  the  new 
church  of  Saint  Marylabonne,  to  which  building, 
by  the  way,  the  double  gallery  gives  very  much 
the  air  of  a  theatre,  (an  appearance  not  a  little 
increased  by  the  tawdry  dresses  of  its  visitants,) 
and  in  which  the  closets  of  the  select  few  re- 
semble private  boxes,  rather  than  the  modest 
seclusions  of  a  place  of  worship.  These  ex- 
traordinary features,  added  to  the  peep-hole  ex- 
hibition of  a  trumpery  transparency  through  the 
body  of  the  organ,  produce  an  effect  in  the  tout 
ensemble  as  little  calculated  to  inspire  devotion, 
as  the  exhibition  of  a  magic  lantern  in  another 
place  to  the  tones  of  a  similar  instrument  on  a 
smaller  scale.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  time  flew 
with  that  proverbial  rapidity  so  ill  suited  to  his 
age,  that  James^  servant  arrived  in  town  as  di- 
rected, and  took  his  post  exactly  where  it  was 


THE    SUTHER LANDS.  105 

intended  that  he  should  take  it ;  that  James  him- 
self discovered  a  sort  of  hotel  in  Portland-street 
which  fully  answered  the  purpose  of  a  sleeping- 
place,  and  that  on  the  Thursday  following  his 
departure  the  illustrious  Bengalee,  Alexander 
Lazenby,  Esq.  returned  to  his  daughter  and  his 
domicile  in  London. 

.  The  evening  after  his  arrival  was  indeed  a 
momentous  one :  Lazenby  and  James  were  tete  a 
ttte?  the  claret  full-bodied ,  and  high  in  fla- 
vour, the  conversation  continued  agreeable  and 
vivacious  ;  till  at  length  Mr.  Alexander  Lazenby 
turned  the  course  of  the  colloquy  to  something 
like  matters  of  business. 

"  Weiy  said  he,  "James,"— he  called  him 
James,  and  the  change  of  style  was  not  lost  upon 
Sutherland, — "  And  how  have  you  made  it  out 
during  my  absence  !" 

"  As  well  as  we  could,  Sir,  without  you." 
"  Sutherland,"  said  Lazenby,  "  I  think  after 
observing  the  line  of  conduct  which  I  have 
adopted,  you  can  have  but  little  doubt  of  my  in 
tentions.  I  have  made  such  enquiries  with  re- 
spect to  you  as  have  proved  highly  satisfactory : 
I  have  seen  such  conduct  as  is  to  me  particularly 
gratifying.  I  most  gladly  anticipate  your  wishes, 
f5 


106  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

and  those  of  my  poor  little  Grace,  by  saying  that 
I  fully  and  entirely  approve  of  that  which  I  know 
it  is  your  mutual  desire  I  should  sanction." 

James  drew  his  handkerchief  from  his  pocket, 
and  covered  his  face — the  Nabob  thought,  to  hide 
the  feelings  of  rapture  at  receiving  such  a  prize  as 
his  daughter  : — such  indeed  were  the  feelings  of 
her  youthful  lover,  but  they  were,  alas  !  excited 
rather  by  the  consciousness  of  her  immense 
wealth,  than  by  any  sentiment  of  devotion  to 
her  person. 

"  Come,  Sutherland,  come,"  continued  her  fa- 
ther, "  be  a  man, — take  your  wine,— help  your- 
self,— come,  come," — and  the  old  gentleman  rose 
and  stood  before  the  fireplace,  and  patted  his 
future  son-in-law  on  the  shoulder  encouragingly. 
"  Sir,"  sobbed  out  James,  "  I  cannot  speak, " 
— and  he  seized  his  hand,  and  pressed  it  fer- 
vently. 

"  Take  some  wine,  Sutherland,"  continued 
the  Nabob,  who  was  a  staunch  advocate  for  the 
juice  of  the  grape;  to  his  singular  and  unvarying 
patronage  of  which,  might,  I  believe,  be  attri- 
buted the  healthful  contrast  his  appearance  af- 
forded to  the  general  run  of  dry-skinned,  lac- 


THE    SUTHERLAND  a.  107 

laden,  miserable,  mortals,  annually  imported 
from  the  same  region. 

"  It  is  necessary  we  should  talk  a  little  ra- 
tionally/' added  Lazenby,  "  for,  my  dear  friend, 
however  romantic  love  may  be  at  your  time  of 
life,  there  must  be  the  qiwifaire,  the  materiel — 
Now  with  respect  to  Grace's  fortune " 

At  this  moment  James  recovered  his  self-pos- 
session in  a  most  miraculous  manner,  and  wiping 
his  eyes,  said  : — 

"  Yes,  Sir  ?" — interrogatively. 

"  With  respect  to  her  fortune,  I  shall  candidly 
tell  you  what  I  propose  to  do  : — in  the  first 
place" 


Here  a  thundering  knock  at  the  hall  door  an- 
nounced a  new  arrival. 

"  I  propose,"  continued  Mr.  Lazenby,  "  to 
settle  a  regular  sum  upon  Grace,  which  of 
course  will  bear  a  due  proportion  to — 

"Mr.  Rice,  Sir,"  exclaimed  a  servant, 
throwing  open  the  door  of  the  dinner-parlour, 
and  ushering  in  the  yellow  shade  of  the  returned 
Nabob. 

"  My  dear  Rice,  how  are  you  ?"  said  La- 
zenby :  "  I  am  delighted  to  see  you." 


108  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

"  The  deuce  take  him !"  thought  James,  "just 
at  this  moment — this  important,  interesting,  mo- 
ment—" 

"  Lazenby,"  said  Rice,  "  I  am  glad  to  find 
you  back  :  I  called  in  at  Lloyd's,  in  Harley- 
street,  and  heard  from  Sir  Christopher  Coddle^ 
whom  I  left  there  just  now  reading  yesterday's 
newspapers,  that  you  were  arrived  in  town; 
so  I  determined  to  call  and  see  whether  you 
wanted  one  for  your  rubber." 

And  thus  was  abruptly  terminated  the  most 
delicate  and  momentous  conversation  in  which 
James  had  ever  participated. 

The  coffee,  the  chasse,  the  whist,  (in  which 
he  was  compelled  to  join,)  the  Indian  anecdotes, 
the  merriment  of  Mrs  Chatterton,  the  placid 
amiability  of  Miss  Lazenbyy  were  alike  sicklied 
o'er  with  the  pale  hue  of  indifference,  and  were 
equally  uninteresting  to  poor  Sutherland :  the 
Fates  had  cut  the  thread  of  a  discourse  as 
important  to  him  as  life  itself,  and  much  more 
so  than  love  ;  and  when  he  was  pronounced  at 
twelve  o'clock  a  loser  of  four  guineas  by  the 
game,  his  feelings  towards  the  haggard  Croesus 
whose  partner  he  had  been,  and  in  an  associa- 
tion with  whom,  he  had  thus  been  despoiled  of 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  109 

his  property,  were  almost  too  strong  for  endu- 
rance. However,  the  bright  ray  of  hope  was 
rekindled  when  he  was  again  summoned  to  the 
council  for  the  following  day,  and  when  Mr.  La- 
zenby  added  that  Mr.  Casay,  his  attorney, 
would  dine  with  them,  and  a  clear  expose  of  af- 
fairs would  be  laid  before  them : — this  solaced 
all  his  sorrows,  this  compensated  for  all  his 
losses, — and  his  slumbers  at  the  hotel  were  only 
disturbed  by  dreams  of  wealth  and  happiness. 

In  the  morning  James  wrote  a  long  letter  to 
George,  thanking  him  for  his  offer  of  Rings- 
worth,  explaining  all  his  movements,  and  in- 
forming him  that  he  intended  in  the  first  uv 
stance,  as  soon  as  he  was  married,  to  proceed  to 
Bath,  where  in  the  society  of  his  mother  and 
sister,  after  a  due  and  decent  seclusion  from  the 
world,  he  and  his  amiable  bride  might  enjoy  that 
calm  and  rational  felicity  which  he  anticipated 
from  an  union  with  so  mild  and  gentle  a  help- 
mate ;  and  that,  at  the  expiration  of  that  period, 
if  convenient,  he  would  retire  to  Ringsworth. 

In  addition  to  this,  James  wrote  to  his  friend 
Mrs.  Trainer,  and  was,  for  once,  animated  by  a 
feeling  inexplicable  even  to  himself:  it  originated 
certainly  in  gratitude,  but  it  was  gratitude  for 


110  THE    SUTHERLAND?. 

gratification,  it  was  a  feeling  bottomed  upon  an 
anxiety  at  once  to  secure  and  soothe  a  friend ; 
and  now  certain  of  his  prize  by  her  agency,  he 
felt  it  honourable  and  right,  without  a  refresher, 
to  fulfil  his  engagement  to  his  ancient  and  dis- 
creet ally.  Folding,  therefore,  into  an  envelope, 
with  infinite  care,  the  bond  which  she  had  given 
him  for  the  advanced  fifteen  hundred  pounds, 
from  which  he  had  previously  torn  her  signature, 
he  wrote  a  few  lines  cautiously  worded  so  as  not 
to  betray  the  original  intention  of  lending,  and 
the  present  motive  for  giving  the  old  gentlewo- 
man a  sum  so  important  to  his  happiness.  He 
despatched  his  pacquet  to  "  Belmont  Establish- 
ment," and  proceeded  to  the  family  dinner  of 
his  father-in-law  at  Portland  Place. 

Now  indeed  was  the  crisis  of  his  fate  at  hand, 
every  thing  smiled:  even  Grace  herself  looked 
more  than  half-alive :  the  servants  by  their 
pointed  civilities,  their  zealous  activity  in  open- 
ing and  shutting,  announcing  and  ushering  in, 
declared  the  joyous  moment  at  hand,  when,  as 
second  in  command  of  the  establishment,  he 
should  reign  and  rule  without  control. 

Mr.  Casay,  punctual  to  time,  made  his  ap- 
pearance :  Mr.  Lazenby  accompanied  him  to  the 


THE    SUTHEllLANDS.  HI 

drawing-room,  and  again  did  James  support  his 
beloved  to  the  banquet.  Mr.  Lazenby  appeared 
in  excellent  spirits,  Mrs.  Chatterton  was  all 
smiles  and  sparkle,  and  the  solicitor  as  cautious 
and  complimentary  as  a  lawyer  could  be. 

Every  moment  seemed  an  age  to  James  till 
the  ladies  motioned  to  retire ;  for  such  was  the 
character  of  his  affection  for  Grace,  that  he  could 
endure  the  anxiety  of  absence  better  than  the 
suspense  with  which  he  was  tortured  as  to  the 
sum  total  of  her  worldly  endowments. 

The  fair  ones  gone,  the  door  closed,  James 
felt  the  renewal  of  those  apprehensive  palpita- 
tions which  the  interrupted  conversation  of  the 
preceding  evening  had  previously  excited. 

"  Ring  the  bell,"  said  Lazenby  to  Casay. 

His  order  was  obeyed,  as  almost  instantly  was 
the  summons. 

"  If  any  body  calls  this  evening,"  said  La- 
zenby to  the  butler,  "  desire  that  they  may  be 
shewn  into  the  drawing-room.     I  shall  be  busy.* 

The  butler  bowed,  and  retired. 

"Help  yourself,  Sutherland :— Casay,  some 
wine."" 

The  glasses  were  filled. 


1  lJi  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

"  Did  you  look  over  that  paper,  Casay  ?" 
isked  the  master  of  the  house. 

"  I  did,  Sir,"  replied  the  Lawyer,  "  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  it  may  either  be  done  on  the 
Devonshire  or  the  Worcestershire  property ; 
just  as  you  like." 

M  Did  you  enquire  about  the  Trunk  shares  ?" 

"  Yes,  Sir,  there  is  the  paper,"  said  the 
Lawyer,  handing  a  document  to  Lazenby. 

"  I  do  not  apologize,  Sutherland,"  said  the 
urbane  Nabob,  "  for  talking  on  business  before 
you,  because,  in  point  of  fact,  you  are  chiefly 
concerned  in  it." 

James  bowed,  and  looked  uncommonly 
sheepish. 

"  Ah  !"  said  Lazenby,  having  carefully  per- 
used the  paper :  "  that  might  do,  but  I  think 
the  security  upon  those  .  small  bonds  just  as 
good." 

i;  Oh,  quite !"  said  the  Lawyer. 

"  At  all  events  there  can  be  no  difficulty," 
observed  Lazenby. 

"  No,  Sir,"  said  Casay,  "  I  should  think  not ;" 
— and  they  both  laughed  most  archly  and  agree- 
ably. 

u  Mr.   Sutherland,"    said    Lazenby,     "  Mr. 


THE    SUTHERLAXDS.  I  V3 

Casay  is  my  right  hand,  my  privy-councillor  and 
adviser, — indeed  I  hardly  know  what  I  should 
do  without  him  :" — Casay  bowed  : — "  we  may 
therefore,  indeed  ?nust  be  explicit  and  candid 
with  him: — he  is  fully  aware  of  the  proposed 
ratification  of  the  engagement  between  my  little 
Grace  and  yourself.,'> 

James  bowed. 

"  I  have  had  a  long  and  serious  conversa- 
tion with  her  upon  the  subject;  and  as  you 
have  already  plainly  expressed  your  wishes, 
I  can  have  no  difficulty  in  giving  my  con- 
sent." 

"  Sir,  you  do  me  honour;  your  kindness,"' 
said  James,  "  is " 

"  Justir^ — Justice  my  dcsr  Mr;  •Sutherland  ; 
I  say,  and  always  have  said,  as  my  excellent 
friend  Casay  here  knows,  let  marriages  be  of 
hearts,  and  not  of  hands  alone.  Grace  is  a 
very  good  and  discreet  girl,  apparently  of  a 
sweet  disposition,  and  she  has  made  her  elec- 
tion. She  is  quite  old  enough  to  judge  for 
herself,  and  God  knows  there  is  no  reason  why 
she  should  be  thwarted;  so  fill  your  glass, 
Casay,  and  we  will  drink  happiness  to  the 
young  couple." 


114  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

This  ceremony  having  been  fully  and  duly 
performed,  James  thought  it  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  eulogise  his  intended  prize,  to  make 
the  most  unqualified  avowals  of  his  affection  and 
esteem,  and  to  predict  that  in  the  possession  of 
her,  he  should  enjoy  the  greatest  possible  bless- 
ing this  world  could  bestow. 

A  thundering  knock  at  the  hall-door  an- 
nounced one  of  those  evening  arrivals  so  fre- 
quent in  the  family  ;  the  visitor,  however,  pass- 
ed up-stairs. 

"  Sutherland,"  said  Mr.  Lazenby,  "  I  have 
never  yet — for  with  me,  I  do  assure  you,  it 
is  not  the  primary  object — enquired  as  to  the 
extent  of  your  patrimony." 

*rx.a  a  ^uunger  DrOtlleT,  Sir,"  saia  aaiucsj 
"  I  have,  I  fear,  but  little  to  offer  in  the  way 
of  wealth ;  but  as  candour  is  indispensable 
upon  such  occasions  as  these,  I  think  it  my 
duty  to  say,  that  four  hundred  pounds  per 
annum  in  the  present  state  of  affairs  is  the 
maximum  of  my  income.  I  have  recently  di- 
minished my  stock  of  funded  property,  and  I 
believe  I  can  call  scarcely  more  than  two  thou- 
sand pounds  my  own  as  capital." 

No  surprise,  no  anger,  no  disappointment 
manifested   itself   in  the  countenance   of    La- 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  115 

zenby  at  this  declaration  of  James's  very  small 
fortune ;  on  the  contrary,  he  turned  to  Casay 
and  observed  that  it  was  very  suitable ;  to  which 
Casay  assented. 

Another  thundering  knock  announced  ano- 
ther arrival. 

"  Mr.  Sutherland,"  said  Lazenby,  "  Mr.  Ca- 
say and  myself  have  been  considering  the  best 
means  of  settling  upon  Grace  an  adequate 
income  proportionate  to  that  which  you  possess  ; 
and  your  recent  declaration  puts  us  quite  at 
our  ease.  I  have  made  an  arrangement  to 
allow  her  three  hundred  pounds  per  annum 
for  her  life ;  and  you  will,  I  am  sure,  permit  me, 
without  feeling  offended,  to  throw  in  five  hun- 
dred just  to  make  up  her  corbeille  da  ma- 
nage" 

James  bowed,  and  thought  he  misunderstood 
all  that  had  passed. 

"  Justice  to  my  family,''  continued  Lazen- 
by, "  will  not  allow  me  to  do  more  for  the 
poor  child.  Emma  Fisher  ton,  whom  you  see 
here  generally,  and  her  mother,  will,  of  course, 
inherit  all  my  property  when  I  retire  from  the 
world ;  for  although  I  really  feel  a  father's  af- 
fection for  Grace,  yet,  as  she  is  a  natural  child, 


116  THE    SUTHERLAND. 

I  think  I  should  not  be  warranted  in  taking 
from  my  sister's  family  more  than  that  which  I 
now  propose." 

A  third  tremendous  peal  at  the  door  afforded 
James  a  favourable  opportunity  of  starting 
back  at  the  instant,  which  movement  was  in 
fact  produced  by  the  killing  annunciation  of  the 
nature  of  Miss  Lazenby's  relationship  to  the 
Nabob,  and  the  consequent  insignificance  of  her 
fortune,—  a  circumstance  which  had  never,  by 
the  remotest  chance,  entered  into  his  calcula- 
tions. 

Lazenby  was  sufficiently  a  man  of  the  world 
to  perceive  in  a  moment  the  electric  effect 
which  his  unwelcome  communication  had  upon 
his  hearer ;  but,  resolved  to  conclude  his  bar- 
gain, he  continued  :  "  Your  repeated  expres- 
sions of  attachment  to  Grace,  my  dear  Suther- 
land, have  convinced  me  of  the  pure  and  dis- 
interested nature  of  your  attachment ;  and 
should  you  pursue  your  intention  of  taking 
orders,  I  think,  as  a  clergyman's  wife,  my  lit- 
tle girl  will  be  invaluable  to  you." 

James  endeavoured  to  utter  something  lau- 
datory of  her  virtue  and  mildness,  and  other 
excellent  qualities ;  but  he   faltered  and  stam- 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  117 

mered,  till  Lazenby,  wishing  to  misunderstand 
the  feelings  he  had  excited,  much  after  the 
fashion  of  the  man  who  declared  that  he  never 
gave  less,  when  the  butler  earnestly  represented 
that  he  had  tipped  him  a  shilling  instead  of  a 
sovereign,  continued  to  eulogize  his  natural 
daughter,  and  commend  his  own  liberality,  till 
at  length  James  did  get  out  something  like  an 
expression  of  dissent  and  disappointment  as  to 
the  proposed  annuity  for  his  beloved. 

He  was  apprehensive  that  there  would  be  a 
difficulty  in  "  making  it  out "  upon  so  small  an 
income :  his  object  was  any  thing  rather  than  pe- 
cuniary advantage  in  the  match ;  but  still  he  did 
not  feel  justified  in  exposing  a  young  lady  to 
the  inconvenience  of  a  diminished  establishment ; 
and  so  on.  All  however  in  vain, — the  Nabob 
reiterated  the  catalogue  of  his  daughter's  good 
qualities,  the  contentedness  of  her  disposition, 
and  his  perfect  conviction  that  her  happiness 
was  decided  and  secure. 

In  the  midst  of  all  the  hurry  and  bustle  of 
this  declaration  of  the  real  state  of  the  con- 
nexion, the  servants  announced  coffee,  and 
moreover,  that  Lord  Springfield  was  arrived, 
which  information  brought  the  Nabob  speedily 


118  THE    SUTHEULAXDS. 

from  his  seat,  and,  smacking  James  paternally 
on  the  back,  he  led  the  way  to  the  drawing- 
room,  saying  joyously  as  he  passed  him,  "  To- 
morrow, Sutherland,  we  sign  and  seal." 

James  bowed  and  smiled ;  and  the  next  mo- 
ment recollected  the  cancelled  bond  of  Mrs. 
Trainer,  the  bribe  of  fifteen  hundred  pounds 
which  he  had  given  to  be  introduced  into  a  fa- 
mily, in  order  to  make  a  connexion  with  the  na- 
tural daughter  of  a  Nabob,  possessed  of  a  life- 
interest  in  three  hundred  pounds  per  annum. 
The  Lawyer,  like  his  client,  was  too  much  of  an 
adept  to  be  deceived  as  to  the  nature  of  Suther- 
land's real  feelings,  and  was  even  on  the  point  of 
making  an  enquiry  whether  Mr.  Sutherland  had 
not  all  along  known  that  Grace  was  illegitimate, 
when  prudence  checked  him,  and  he  changed  his 
intended  address  with  a  renewed  observation 
about  coffee  and  the  ladies. 

When  they  reached  the  drawing-room,  James's 
eyes  sought  those  of  Grace,  concluding  that  she 
was  aware  of  the  nature  of  the  conversation 
which  had  been  passing  in  the  dinner-parlour, 
and  expecting  a  show  of  interesting  confusion  in 
her  countenance  ;  but  no, — there  she  sat,  looking 


THE    SUTHEIiLANDS.  119 

with  the  most  composed  placidity  at  a  snuff-box 
belonging  to  one  of  the  Nabobs,  in  the  top  of 
which  was  some  curious  oriental  stone,  to  the 
natural  history  of  which,  detailed  to  her  by  its 
venerable  owner,  she  appeared  to  be  listening 
with  the  most  unmixed  attention. 

Different  indeed  to  this  still-life  exhibition 
was  that  of  the  animated  Miss  Fisherton,  who 
was  seated  at  her  eternal  harp,  surrounded  by 
beaux,  each  proffering  his  aid  in  some  small 
particular :  with  them,  she  sat  the  little  deity  of 
the  drawing-room,  joking,  and  laughing  at  jokes, 
and  criticising  poets,  painters,  and  singers,  lend- 
ing her  willing  ear  to  welcome  bits  of  scandal, 
and  dealing  out  satirical  remarks  with  sufficient 
grace  to  make  her  auditors  believe  that  they, 
when  absent,  did  not  furnish  their  sparkling 
oracle  with  subjects  for  the  amusement  of  others. 

Lord  Springfield  and  the  Nabob  were  in  ear- 
nest conversation  in  a  distant  corner  of  the 
room ;  and  this  circumstance,  added  to  the  firm- 
ness with  which  the  Honourable  Colonel,  his 
Lordship's  son  and  heir,  maintained  his  post  as 
leaf-turner  to  the  fascinating  performer,  led 
James  to  believe  that  his,  would  not  be  the  only 


120  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

wedding  shortly  to  be  celebrated  in  the  family. 
But  how  different  were  all  his  other  feelings  on 
the  subject  from  those  which  filled  his  breast 
when  he  was  last  in  the  same  room :  he  looked 
around  and  saw  what  was  going  on,  merely  to  be 
mortified  ;  his  wonted  philosophy  was  not  a  little 
discomposed  when  Casay,  who,  being  by  no 
means  calculated  for  the  belle  assemblee  congre- 
gated about  Miss  Fisherton,  was  left  straggling 
and  insulated,  sought  James  as  a  companion, 
and  made  an  observation  upon  the  beauty  of 
that  charming  and  accomplished  young  lady. 

When  the  minute  inspection  of  the  snuff-box 
by  Grace  had  ended,  its  owner  betook  himself 
to  that  quarter  of  the  saloon  where  stood  the 
accustomed  whist-table,  leaving,  as  he  felt  it 
correct  to  do,  the  place  next  the  young  lady  va- 
cant for  its  rightful  owner.  To  take  it  was  ine- 
vitable, to  avoid  it  impossible, — and  James 
seated  himself  by  his  betrothed,  overwhelmed 
with  feelings  which  I  fear  I  have  not  the  power 
to  describe  so  as  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of 
their  excessive  unpleasantness. 

He  had  taken  the  decided  step,  and  he  was 
bound  to  marry  the  girl :  he  looked  at  her  as  he 
sat  down,  and  thought, — not  as  he  had  hereto- 


THE    SUTHEKLANDS.  121 

fore  thought,  that  her  countenance,  though 
plainish,  was  full  of  expression,  or  that  her  eyes 
were  intelligent,  or  that  her  manners  were  win- 
ning, or  that  her  conversation,  when  she  talked, 
was  rational: — No,  he  had  been  coaxing  himself 
for  the  last  three  months  into  a  belief  of  all 
this ;  because  she  was  an  heiress  ;  —but  now  he 
looked  at  her  as  a  child  would  look  at  a  leaden 
toy  after  its  gilding  had  been  stripped  off — he 
saw  her  in  all  her  native  imperfection,  and  only 
wondered  how  he  could  ever  have  been  so 
foolish  as  to  entertain  the  hope  of  compensating 
to  himself  for  the  want  of  attractions  in  a  wife, 
by  riches. 

Then  the  ridicule  to  which  he  should  be  ex- 
posed from  those  who  were  in  his  confidence, 
and  to  whom  he  had  entrusted  his  project. — 
Then  the  loss  of  his  fifteen  hundred  pounds,  and 
his  temerity  and  precipitation  in  returning  Mrs. 
Trainer's  bond, — then  the  necessary  abandon- 
ment of  Ringsworth,— then  the  perpetual  union 
with  such  a  dull,  diminutive  dowdy,  as  he  all  at 
once  discovered  his  delicate,  retiring  Grace  to 
be ;  and  above  all  the  boitlversement  of  his  ima- 
ginary plans  of  comfort,  splendour,  and  self-gra- 
tification, and  the  abrupt  failure  of  the  whole  of 

vol.    I.  G 


122  THE    SUTHERLAND^. 

a  well-laid  plan,  concocted  in  a  mind  devoted 
through  life  to  the  one  sole  object  of  money- 
getting;  all  crowded  into  his  imagination,  and 
made  him  at  once  both  sorrowful  and  angry. 

A  silence  of  some  minutes  succeeded  his  as- 
sumption of  the  seat  next  Grace ;  and  when  she 
broke  that  silence,  (which,  strange  to  say,  she 
did,)  she  enquired  "  whether  her  papa  had  been 
engaged  in  business,  since,  contrary  to  usual 
custom,  his  friends  had  made  their  appearance 
before  him  in  the  drawing-room. 

Whether  the  little  thing,  calm  and  cold  as 
it  looked,  really  wished  to  induce  a  conversa- 
tion upon  the  subject  which  her  equally  cold, 
but  alas  !  not  equally  calm  lover  most  sedu- 
lously desired  to  avoid,  I  cannot  say ;  nor  indeed 
can  I  report  what  James  might  have  replied,  to 
her  question,  for  owing  to  some  untoward  cir- 
cumstance, or  consequent  perhaps  upon  some 
remark  of  Miss  Fisherton,  the  moment  Grace 
began  her  appeal,  a  sudden  tittering,  somewhat 
savouring  of  ill-breeding,  commenced  in  the 
circle,  and  Emma  suddenly  abandoning  her  oc- 
cupation of  turning  over  the  leaves  of  her  mu- 
sic-books, elevated  her   glass  to  her  sparkling 


THE    SUTHEltLANDS.  123 

eye   in   order   to  ascertain  whether  the  lovers 
were  actually  in  communication. 

Grace,  whose  back  was  turned  towards  the 
smirking  group,  did  not  perceive  this  evolution  ; 
but  James  did,  and  a  whisper  from  Colonel 
Fitzmaurice  to  Emma,  and  a  consequent  smile- 
covering  frown  from  the  young  lady,  brought  at 
once  to  his  mind  his  real  position  in  the  esta- 
blishment: he  saw  in  an  instant  that  he  had 
been  selected  to  take  a  person  out  of  the  family 
whom  it  was  desirable  to  remove;  he  had  all 
along  been  treated  as  one  who  could  know  no- 
thing of  the  world  or  its  affairs ;  and  now  that 
he  had  ascertained  the  actual  nature  of  Grace's 
connexion  with  the  house  of  Lazenby,  he  was 
less  surprised  at  the  cavalier  treatment  he  had 
hitherto  experienced  than  before. 

This  discovery  to  one  who,  like  James,  was 
proud  as  well  as  mean,  was  most  galling  in  its 
character;  and  to  speak  truth  it  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  he  mustered  sufficient  courage 
and  philosophy  to  reply  to  the  question  of  his 
beloved  under  the  heavy  weight  of  his  own  afflic- 
tions, and  the  heavy  fire  of  significant  glances 
from  his  unfeeling  persecutors. 
g2 


124  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

Such  an  evening  of  restraint  and  uneasiness, 
so  many  artificial  smiles,  so  much  affected  plea- 
sure, so  much  real  anxiety,  my  politic  lover, 
now  caught  in  his  own  snare,  had  never  before 
experienced  in  the  whole  course  of  his  metho- 
dical life ;  but  Grace  was  still  the  same,  she  was 
immovable  and  unmoved ;  and,  although  to  a 
sensitive  girl  of  feeling  and  passion,  the  altera- 
tion in  her  lover's  manner  (as  little  changed 
as  possible  it  is  true)  would  have  been  instantly 
perceptible,  in  her  it  appeared  not  to  make  the 
smallest  difference  either  as  to  feelings  or  re- 
gards, and  she  deposited  her  little  cold,  pink, 
hand  in  that  of  Sutherland,  when  they 
parted  for  the  evening,  with  as  much  inartifi- 
ciality  as  ever,  and  felt  neither  disappointment 
nor  surprise  when  her  lover  omitted  the  custo- 
mary squeeze,  which,  although  never  yet  re- 
turned, had  hitherto  been  regularly  given. 

Casay  early  in  the  evening,  retired  from 
the  brilliant  display  of  Italian  canzonetts  and 
oriental  whist,  to  the  clear  comprehension  of 
which  his  intellect  was  hardly  adequate  ;  but  he 
departed  not  without  having  engaged  himself 
and  his  client  to  ratify  the  necessary  documents 
by  which  legal  possession  was  to  be  given  to  the 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  125 

second  son  of  the  Sutherlands,  of  a  wife,  and 
her  life-interest  in  three  hundred  pounds  per 
annum. 

Arrived  at  his  hotel,  James  first  hoped  that 
all  which  had  passed  was  visionary, — that  he 
had  dreamed  a  horrid  dream, — but  the  more  he 
reflected,  the  more  he  was  assured  of  its  dread- 
ful reality,  and  the  more  he  considered,  the 
clearer  sounded  in  his  ear,  "  life-interest  in  three 
hundred  pounds  per  annum .'" 

James,  it  should  be  understood,  was  not  a 
French  scholar,  and  therefore  puzzled  himself 
mightily  to  understand  what  object  it  could  pos- 
sibly be  upon  which  Mr.  Lazenby  proposed  to 
expend  five  hundred  pounds,  in  addition  to  the 
extremely  liberal  settlement  which  he  had  made ; 
and  when  he  canvassed  the  whole  affair  and 
its  arrangement  in  his  mind,  the  respect  he  at 
first  had  entertained  for  the  Nabob's  liberality, 
turned  into  the  most  sovereign  contempt  for  his 
meanness.  Grace's  unsophistication  again  glared 
upon  him  as  downright  stupidity ;  and  he  de- 
nounced Mrs.  Trainer  by  an  appellation  which 
it  would  be  unseemly  to  repeat,  and  added  that 
of  swindler  to  all  the  rest  of  the  epithets  which 
he  so  liberally  bestowed  upon  her. 


126  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  galling  disappointment ; 
and  James  had,  at  one  moment,  nearly  resolved 
upon  breaking  off  the  connexion  at  all  hazards, 
and  starting  for  France,  or  Poyais,  or  Ota- 
heite,  or  America ;  at  one  moment  it  suggested 
itself  to  him  as  a  good  plan  to  abscond  in  the 
night,  and  leave  his  hat  swimming  in  the  Ser- 
pentine River,  or  rush  forward  pele-mele  to 
Gretna  Green,  and  marry  the  first  girl  who 
would  have  him.  This  last,  however,  appeared 
a  measure  somewhat  too  desperate  to  under- 
take rashly;  for  he  held  that  it  would  be  the 
height  of  temerity  to  "  fly  from  evils  that  he 
knew,  to  others  which  he  knew  not  of;"  and  if 
he  married  at  all,  why  Grace,  though  plain,  was 
innocent,  though  silly,  mild,  and  though  ge- 
nerally indifferent  to  all  things,  less  so  to  him 
than  to  any  thing  else.  Thus,  by  the  time  sleep 
chained  his  senses  and  steeped  them  in  forget- 
fulness,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  endure 
the  complete  destruction  of  all  his  youthful 
hopes  and  early  ambition,  with  the  best  possible 
humour. 

Meanwhile  much  was  doing  at  Bath  ;  Mrs. 
Sutherland  was  fast  declining  in  health,  and 
the  waters  were  not  what  Jane  wanted,  to  re- 


<- 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  127 

store  her  bloom  and  spirits;  deep-seated  me- 
lancholy was  her  disorder;  now  that  she  was 
left  more  alone  than  before,  she  felt  a  powerful 
accession  to  her  bodily  ills,  and  thus  driven  from 
their  peaceful  home,  the  wretched  couple  of  in- 
sulated females  pined  and  moped  away  their 
lives  in  a  small  house  in  Rivers-street,  pre- 
vented by  their  ill-health  from  mingling  in  the 
doubtful  pleasures  of  Bath  in  summer,  where 
grass  grows  in  every  street  and  square,  in 
which  the  scorching  rays  of  the  sun  will  allow 
the  mis-placed  herbage  to  spring. 

George  heard  of  his  mother's  illness;  and 
although  determined  upon  the  continental  trip, 
resolved  not  to  leave  England  without  pay- 
ing her  a  visit;  he  made  sundry  efforts  to 
go  to  her  alone,  and  threw  out  numerous  hints 
to  that  effect,  but  Emily  had  never  seen  Bath, 
and  therefore  go  she  must,  if  he  went;  and 
as  it  would  have  been  harsh  to  deny  her  such 
an  undoubted  privilege  as  that  of  accompanying 
her  husband  to  the  home  of  his  mother,  Mr. 
Sutherland  was  compelled  to  submit  to  hep 
reasonable  demand. 

Accordingly  a  journey  was  arranged  and 
perfected;    and  after   a   short  avowal   of  their 


128  THE    SUTHfillLAXDS. 

intention,  the  happy  couple  reached  the  York 
House,  and  Emily,  subdued  in  manner,  once 
more  paid  her  dutiful  affection  to  her  mother- 
in-law;— but  she  was  not  the  natural  laughing 
Emily,  who,  some  weeks  before,  had  romped 
and  played  the  hoyden  at  Ringsworth ;  her 
eye  was  dull,  her  brow  was  clouded,  and  some- 
thing there  was,  which  preyed  deeply  upon  her 
mind.  My  reader  may  recollect  that  she  had 
accumulated  a  debt  in  the  name  of  her  husband  ; 
she  was  aware  that  the  announcement  of  his 
intention  to  quit  England  would  accelerate  the 
demands  of  the  tradesmen,  to  whom  bills  were 
owing;  she  saw  in  George's  altered  manner, 
the  ardent  devotion  of  the  lover  subsided  into 
the  calm  affection  of  the  husband  ;  she  saw,  too, 
that  she  had  not  the  power  to  chain  him  in- 
tellectually, and  that  when  the  bloom  of  the 
cheek  should  fade,  and  the  sparkle  of  the  eye 
grow  dim,  she  possessed  none  of  those  real  qua- 
lities, those  integral  virtues,  those  mental  re- 
sources, by  which  the  autumn  of  a  married 
life  is  charmed,  the  winter  of  it  cheered.  His 
indifference  was  marked,  and  the  undisguised 
manner  in  which  he  expressed  his  want  of  de- 
ference to  her  judgment  and  opinion,  convinced 


THE    SUTHERLAKDS.  129 

her  that  their  existence  was  not  destined  to  be 
happy,  if  passed  together. 

It  was  the  assurance  in  her  mind  that  George 
did  not  love  her  with  sufficient  devotion  to 
overlook  the  indiscretions  of  which  she  had 
been  guilty,  that  inspired  her  with  a  dread  of 
consequences,  when  the  truth  should  come  to 
his  knowledge;  and  she  naturally  felt  a  constant 
dread  of  its  disclosure.  Fear  and  love,  they  say, 
are  incompatible ;  and  true  it  is  with  Emily,  that 
as  the  crisis  approached,  and  as  her  apprehen- 
sions strengthened,  so  did  her  affection  for  her 
husband  gradually  diminish.  She  saw  evidences 
of  disappointment  and  vexation  in  all  his  ac- 
tions— she  heard  in  his  conversations  reproaches 
and  rebukes  by  implication,  which  escaped  him 
involuntarily  and  unintentionally ;  in  short, 
she  saw,  in  spite  of  kind  conduct  and  gentle 
bearing  towards  her,  that  George  wished  himself 
unmarried.  A  girl,  whose  mind  was  regulated 
neither  by  principle  nor  religion,  conscious  as 
she  was  of  deceptions  never  yet  suspected  by 
others,  still  uneasy  at  the  present,  and  solicitous 
for  the  future,  was  likely  enough  to  find  this 
wish  infectious;  and  Emily,  at  the  time  she 
g  5 


130  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

reached  Bath,  was  half  wild  with  contending 
feelings,  too  powerful  for  description. 

She  plainly  saw  that  George  repented  of 
his  marriage  with  her;  she  saw  that,  in  point 
of  fact,  he  was  ashamed  of  her ;  and  she  saw, 
moreover,  that  the  conduct  of  his  friends,  who 
so  pointedly  abstained  from  their  usual  in- 
tercourse with  him,  had  aggravated  all  his 
bitter  feelings.  Her  mortification  at  this,  min- 
gled with  that  fear  of  consequences  to  which 
I  have  already  alluded,  excited  in  her,  at  first, 
reserve  and  mistrust,  which  progressively  grew 
into  coldness,  and  thence,  alas  !  into  a  determi- 
nation of  quitting  him  eternally.  It  was  with 
this  resolution  strong  in  her  mind  that  she  laid 
her  aching  head  and  her  flushed  cheek  upon 
her  pillow  the  first  night  of  their  residence  at 
Bath. 

The  passions,  the  feelings  of  woman  are  so 
ill-proportioned  in  their  strength  to  her  con- 
stitution and  corporeal  powers,  that  the  work- 
ings of  an  agitated  mind  soon  become  evident 
in  her  appearance.  Emily  was  no  longer  the 
lively  thoughtless  creature,  who,  but  a  few 
months  before,  seemed  formed  but  for  pleasure 
and   gaiety ;    her  eye   was   sunken,  and   fixed 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  131 

abstractedly  upon  some  object  that  others  saw 
not ;  sighs  heaved  that  snowy  bosom  which  but 
a  little  time  before  had  palpitated  with  rapture 
and  with  joy ;  momentary  blushes  "  ever  and 
anon"  suffused  her  else  pale  cheek,  and  pro- 
claimed some  thought  inhabiting  her  mind  which 
should  have  found  no  harbour  there  ;  she  was 
restless,  and  silent,  full  of  doubts  and  fears ;  and 
her  heart  beat  and  her  hand  burned.  She  trem- 
bled when  she  heard  her  husband's  step;  she 
sought  to  avoid  him ;  she  saw  her  misery  ;  she 
felt  it.  Every  thing  around  was  tasteless  to  her 
senses — colourless  to  her  eye :  one  sole,  one  sin- 
gle object  possessed — enthralled — overwhelmed 
her, — she  loved  another. 

When  Jane  beheld  her  sister-in-law  after  their 
separation,  she  was  startled :  had  Emily  been 
unmarried,  Jane  would  instantly  have  suspected 
the  symptoms:  she  had  felt  love's  bitter  woe  her- 
self; but  Emily  being  a  wife,  Jane,  whose  notions 
of  the  world  had  been  gathered  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Ringsworth,  and  who  thought  all  wo- 
men like  her  mother,  never  entertained  the 
slightest  suspicion  of  the  existence  of  such  a 
passion.  Mrs.  Sutherland,  who  also  saw  the  alte- 
ration in  her  daughter-in-law,  attributed  it  to  a 


132  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

more  natural  cause,  and  merely  calculated  how 
long  her  son  had  been  married ;  Jane,  whose 
pure  mind  was  wholly  incapable  of  drawing 
such  sorts  of  inferences,  sighed  and  wondered 
to  herself  what  that  had  to  do  with  it. 

In  this  stage  of  affairs  a  letter  arrived  from 
James  Sutherland,  announcing  his  approaching 
marriage  with  Grace;  in  which,  although  the 
day  was  fixed  for  the  following  Thursday,  he 
neither  requested  the  attendance  of  any  of 
his  family,  nor  explained  the  disappointment 
of  his  dearest  hopes  and  expectations.  His 
mother  considered  his  letter  dry  and  cold,  even 
for  him,  and  was  conscious  of  a  change  in  his 
style  from  that  which  pervaded  his  last  com- 
munication upon  the  same  subject;  but  she  could 
not  account  for  the  alteration,  neither  could 
George  reconcile  his  total  silence  as  regarded 
Ringsworth  with  the  avidity  expressed  in  his 
former  answers  on  the  same  subject.  James,  in 
truth,  had  reserved  the  denouement  for  a  per- 
sonal interview  with  his  parent ;  for  although, 
if  he  had  known  originally  that  his  sister-in-law 
was  to  have  been  of  the  party,  he  would,  in  all 
probability,  have  changed  his  determination  :  it 
was  fixed  that  he  should  join  the  family  circle 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  133 

at  Bath  as  soon  as  might  be,  after  the  nuptial 
ceremony. 

The  feelings  of  the  worldly  James  when  on 
the  bridal  morning  the  carriage  drove  up, 
which  was  to  carry  him  to  Portland-place,  "  the 
place  from  whence  he  came,"  and  thence  convey 
him  to  "  the  place  of  execution," — the  New 
Church  of  St.  Mary lebone— were,  alas  !  widely 
different  from  those  which  he  at  one  time  ex- 
pected would  have  filled  his  bosom  on  this  most 
interesting  occasion.  While  dressing,  he  thought 
of  innocent  lambs  decked  out  for  sacrifice — of 
worldly  men  over-reached  in  their  speculations 
— of  compulsory  fulfilments — of  rash  engage- 
ments— of  pale  cheeks,  grey  eyes,  drab-coloured 
hair,  and  slate-coloured  drapery.  He  con- 
trasted all  these  with  the  bold  blaze  of  Emma's 
beauty, — that  beauty  which  was  possessed  by 
one,  who  also  possessed  the  wealth  which  had 
been  the  object  of  all  his  manceuvrings  and  all 
his  hopes.  He  was  nervous  and  feverish ;  his 
eyes  felt  heated,  and  his  hands  were  cold,  but 
colder  still  the  heart  which  he  was  about  to 
surrender  at  the  fashionable  Temple  in  the  New 
Road,  in  company  with  all  his  prospects  and 
expectations,  in  barter  for  the  hand  of  a  girl  he 


134  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

in  truth  despised,  and  a  life-interest  in  "  three 
hundred  pounds  per  annum. " 

There  was  a  gallant  train  assembled  at 
the  Rajah's,  anxious  (as  James  felt)  to  give  a 
respectability  to  the  marriage  of  the  Rajah's 
daughter ;  but,  alas  !  in  the  train  was  Emma, 
looking  like  a  fourth  grace ;  and  there  were  Mrs. 
Fisherton  and  Mrs.  Chatterton,  and  a  group 
of  nieces  and  cousins,  all  affording  patronage 
and  protection  to  the  clay-coloured  bride. 

In  manner  she  was  not  the  least  changed  by 
circumstances,  which  to  a  girl  of  stronger  feel- 
ings or  more  excitable  passions,  would  have 
been  dreadfully,  even  if  delightfully  agitating ; 
the  same  placidity,  the  same  coldness,  the 
same  precision  characterized  all  her  proceed- 
ings ;  and  when  at  the  altar  she  plighted  her 
faith  to  her  husband,  she  went  through  the 
ceremony  as  mechanically  and  regularly  as  if 
she  had  been  married  every  morning  for  the 
preceding  six  weeks.  As  James  led  her  to  the 
carriage,  "  all  his  own,"  she  exhibited  not  the 
smallest  emotion,  unless,  indeed,  I  except  the 
evincement  of  a  slight  degree  of  uneasiness 
upon  perceiving  that  her  new  dress  had  acci- 
dentally contracted  a  small  spot  of  mud  from 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  135 

the  chariot-wheel  as  she  stepped  into  the 
vehicle. 

The  breakfast  was  eaten  gaily  and  merrily  by 
all  the  guests,  and  after  it  was  concluded  Mr. 
Lazenby  presented  James  with  a  magnificent 
snuff-box,  and  Grace  with  a  beautiful  set  of  ame- 
thysts, which  the  happy  young  couple  received 
with  becoming  acknowledgments;  and  when  the 
bride  came  down  prepared  for  the  hymeneal 
journey,  dressed  in  a  long  blue  riding-habit,  with 
a  male  hat  upon  her  head,  made  of  drab-coloured 
beaver,  to  match  her  complexion,  James  thought 
he  never  had  seen  her  exhibit  any  thing  half  so 
near  prettiness :  but  just  as  he  was  winding 
himself  up  to  think  his  condition  rather  enviable 
than  pitiable,  Emma  Fisherton  bounded  across 
the  room,  and  with  one  bright  flash  of  her 
sparkling  eyes,  dissipated  the  flattering  vision  of 
contentment  which  the  poor  bridegroom  had 
been  so  laboriously  conjuring  up.  So  unfortu- 
nate are  comparisons,  and  so  apt  are  men  to  re- 
gulate their  judgments  by  them  I 

I  shall,  as  indeed  it  is  but  correct  I  should, 
leave  the  bride  and  bridegroom  entirely  to  them- 
selves, from  the  moment  they  quitted  Portland 
Place  on  the  wedding-day,  until  they  arrived  three 


136  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

days  afterwards  at  Bath,  merely  premising,  that 
James's  spirits  during  the  journey,  however  enli- 
vened, were  by  no  means  of  the  best ;  all  his 
pleasurable  anticipations  of  joining  his  family 
being  mixed  up  with  the  recollection  of  his  for- 
mer prospects  and  his  present  possessions, — the 
certainty  that  George,  in  the  openness  of  his 
heart  and  freedom  of  his  manner,  would  abso- 
lutely laugh  at  the  failure  of  his  brother's  great 
scheme,  when  he  was  made  acquainted  with  it, — 
and,  above  all,  that  Mrs.  George  Sutherland 
would  be  of  the  party  :  she  being  a  lady,  whom, 
now  that  he  was  married,  he  by  no  means  con- 
sidered as  a  particularly  desirable  companion 
for  his  wife. 

Out  of  an  agreeable  and  sound  sleep  in  which 
he  had  indulged  himself  during  the  trajet  from 
the  Castle  inn  at  Marlborough,  was  the  bride- 
groom awakened  by  his  lady  on  their  near  ap- 
proach to  Bath ;  and  in  a  very  short  time  he 
experienced  the  long-expected  pleasure  of  throw- 
ing his  new  wife  into  the  arms  of  his  excellent 
and  exemplary  mother. 

Far  indeed  from  a  scene  of  joy  was  the 
drawing-room  in  Rivers  Street  upon  this  parti- 
cularly interesting  occasion.     James  found  his 


THE    SUTHERLAXDS.  137 

mother  overcome  by  tears,  and  Jane  too  unwell 
even  to  appear,  anxious  as  she  might  be  to  con- 
gratulate her  prudent  brother  upon  the  acquisi- 
tion of  a  wife  so  wealthy  and  so  amiable  as  she 
knew  Grace  to  be.  Grieving  and  afflicting  as 
his  own  disappointment  upon  that  head  was,  he 
was  still  quite  unable  to  account  for  the  sombre 
appearance  of  affairs  at  Bath,  where  the  truth 
could  not  have  been  known  by  the  family,  and 
equally  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  absence  of 
George  and  his  lady,  although  it  must  be  con- 
fessed his  pleasure  at  her  non-appearance  was 
sufficiently  great  to  overbalance  the  desire  he 
otherwise  would  have  had  in  discovering  why 
that  branch  of  the  family  was  missing. 

James  had  his  own  disappointments  to  re- 
late, and  therefore,  coupling  the  escape  which 
his  bride  had  made  from  the  ill  example  likely 
to  be  afforded  by  Emily's  society,  with  his  own 
exemption  from  the  honest  ridicule  of  his  bro- 
ther George,  he  restrained  his  enquiries  upon 
the  subject, — which,  by  the  way,  he  soon  per- 
ceived, were  not  over  agreeable  :  and  consigning 
his  lady  to  the  chamber  of  his  frigid  sister, 
he  opened  his  whole  heart  to  his  mother,  who 
listened  to  the  detail  with  the  deepest  interest, 


138  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

and  at  the  conclusion  of  his  narrative  declared 
her  continued  hope  for  his  happiness,  not  one  jot 
dismayed  by  Grace's  want  of  fortune,  nor  in  the 
smallest,  degree  mortified  by  discovering  that 
she  happened  to  have  been  born  out  of  wedlock. 

There  was  a  deeper  wound  rankling  in  the 
old  lady's  heart,  than  any  which  the  mortifica- 
tion of  a  little  worldly  pride  could  inflict, — 
there  was  a  sorrow  smouldering  there  which  the 
breath  of  enquiry  would  light  into  a  blaze. 
James  unfortunately,  yet  naturally,  fired  the  em- 
bers by  asking  for  his  brother  : — "  Where  was 
he? — Why  not  present ?"■— The  answer  was  a 
flood  of  tears  from  Mrs.  Sutherland.  It  was 
clear  that  something  dreadful  had  happened, 
and  James's  thoughts  instantly  fell  into  the 
right  train. 

Emily  had  eloped  from  the  York  House  the 
preceding  evening,  having  feigned  illness  to  ex- 
cuse herself  from  visiting  her  mother-in-law; 
George,  with  a  precipitation  perfectly  natural, 
had  resolved  on  following  her, — why,  he  consi- 
dered not, — whither,  he  knew  not : — he  started 
immediately,  leaving  a  note  for  his  sister;  and 
from  intelligence  they  had  received  in  the  course 
of  the  morning,  it  seemed  he  had  succeeded  in 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  139 

tracing  her  and  her  gallant  towards  Oxford. 
With  a  mind  full  of  doubt  and  indignation,  he 
pursued  the  clue  which  had  been  given  him,  re- 
solved to  vindicate  his  honour,  and  punish  the 
destroyer,  if  not  of  his  happiness,  at  least  of  his 
respectability. 

Upon  this  expedition,  then,  was  the  heir  of 
the  Sutherlands  gone,  when,  in  reply  to  an  ago- 
nizing expression  of  his  mother's  fear  for  the 
consequence  of  any  rencontre  with  his  wife's 
paramour, — James  enquired  "  whether  he  had 
made  any  settlement  of  his  property  previous  to 
his  departure  ? — whether  he  had  effected  any 
insurance  on  his  life  ? — and  whether  he  had  suf- 
ficiently well  ascertained  who  the  despoiler  of 
his  peace  was,  to  bring  the  matter  to  a  speedy 
conclusion  ?" 

The  tender  parent  saw  nothing  in  this  en- 
quiry but  the  natural  anxiety  of  a  human  being 
for  his  brother  :  and  no  doubt  James  had  in  his 
composition  something  like  fraternal  love,  but 
alas  !  I,  who  know  them  all,  am  compelled  to 
doubt  the  singleness  of  this  feeling; — there 
mingled  in  his  sorrow  and  solicitude  a  certain 
worldly  sensitiveness  as  to  the  ultimate  desti- 
nation of  the  family   property,    which   was   at 


140  THE   SUTHERLANDS. 

George's  disposal ;  his  nervousness  for  his  bro- 
ther certainly  was  more  apparent,  and  his  sym- 
pathies more  strongly  excited,  than  they  ordina- 
rily were  upon  occasions  where  he  himself  was 
not  in  some  degree  interested. 

Poor  Jane,  whose  lot  was  suffering  and  mor- 
tification, accidentally  contrived  to  pay  little 
Grace  in  the  coin  which  she  was  generally  in  the 
habit  of  receiving.  Most  unintentionally  did 
the  young  lady  discuss  at.  length  the  relative 
beauty  of  pearls  and  diamonds,  and  during  the 
ttte  a  tete,  which,  it  was  contrived  by  James,  the 
bride  and  her  sister-in-law  should  enjoy,  she  so 
often  hinted  her  desire  to  see  her  jewels,  (all  of 
which  she  did  as  a  manoeuvre  to  kill  time  and 
keep  the  conversation  clear  of  her  unhappy  bro- 
ther and  his  ill-starred  wife,)  that  Grace  was 
compelled,  in  the  most  serious  mariner,  to  assure 
her  that  she  had  no  jewels  to  shew  except  one 
amethyst  necklace  which  her  papa  had  given  her 
on  the  wedding  morning.  This,  which  still  passed 
for  badinage  with  Jane,  having  subsided,  she  be- 
gan a  new  topic,  and  indulged  in  the  most  fervent 
expressions  of  gratitude  for  maternal  affection, 
questioned  her  sister-in-law  very  closely  about 
her  mother,  after  whom  she  thought  she  might 
safely,  and  ought  properly  to  enquire,  now  that 


THE    SUTHERLANDS.  141 

Grace  was  so  near  in  connexion  with  her,  and 
now  that  the  coldness  which  had  heretofore  per- 
vaded their  conversation  as  acquaintances,  might 
naturally  be  expected  to  give  place  to  the  more 
genial  warmth  of  friendship  and  relationship. 

Still  more  unfortunate  was  Miss  Sutherland 
in  this  manoeuvre  than  in  the  other:  the  more 
she  discussed  the  point,  the  more  moved  did 
Grace  appear;  till,  to  the  utter  astonish- 
ment of  Jane,  who  had  never  before  seen  any 
symptoms  of  common  animation,  the  agitated 
girl  fell  backwards  in  her  chair  in  a  fainting 
fit.  Jane's  alarm, — the  ringing  of  bells, — the 
scuffling  for  water, — the  odour  of  vinegar, — and 
the  hurrying  of  the  two  maids,  who,  like  squires 
of  old,  to  tilting  knights,  were  carrying  on  a 
counterpart  of  their  mistress's  conversation  in 
another  room,  soon  roused  James's  attention 
and  apprehension  that  something  serious  had 
happened :  he  rushed  up-stairs,  and  beheld  his 
poor  bride  a  little  paler  than  usual,  and  quite 
senseless  in  the  arms  of  his  sister. 

"  What  has  happened,  Jane  ?"  said  James. 

"  I  cannot  imagine  what  has  affected  her  so," 
replied  his  sister:  "  we  were  talking  of  her 
jewels." 

"  Good  God!"  exclaimed  her  anxious   hus- 


142  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

band  in  a  perfect  state  of  horror,  "  she  hasn't 
lost  her  amethyst  necklace  !" 

Mrs.  Sutherland  had  by  this  time  arrived, 
and  concluding  that  poor  Grace  was  fatigued,  or 
that  something  else  was  the  matter  with  her, 
signed  her  son  to  leave  the  room,  adding  that  it 
was  all  nothing,  and  that  it  would  soon  go  off; 
and  James,  thus  ejected,  returned  to  the  draw- 
ing-room, not  without  repeating  the  question 
about  Grace's  trinket-box,  for  the  safety  of 
which  he  made  a  new  enquiry  of  her  maid  as 
he  went  down  stairs. 

There,  as  he  entered  the  apartment,  he  be- 
held to  his  surprise  his  brother  George,  heated, 
tired,  agitated,  agonized, — he  had  overtaken  his 
wife,  who  had  positively  refused  to  see  him.  At 
the  inn  where  he  detected  her,  in  vain  he  insist- 
ed upon  knowing  the  partner  of  her  flight :  a  fact 
which  neither  threats  nor  imprecations  upon  his 
head,  which  Sutherland  liberally  bestowed, 
could  possibly  extract,  he  the  said  paramour 
being  actually  concealed  in  the  apartment  to 
which  Emily  had  flown  for  refuge.  No  appel- 
lation, however  degrading,  could  induce  the 
spoiler  of  his  happiness  to  face  him :  a  meanness 
which  he  attributed  to  that  sneaking  cowardice 


THE    SUTHERLAND 5.  143 

which  is  not  unfrequently  the  companion  of 
daring  vice  ;  but  he  lived  to  be  undeceived,  for 
in  the  conclusion  of  the  adventure  he  discovered 
the  object  of  all  her  affection,  the  cause  of  all 
her  shame  and  his  dishonour,  to  be  one  of  his 
own  grooms  ! 

All  hope,  either  of  preventing  the  injury  in- 
tended him,  or  of  obtaining  satisfaction  for  it,  if 
committed,  now  vanished;  and  he  returned  from 
the  chase,  wearied,  degraded,  and  dishonoured, 
— betrayed  by  the  candid  creature  in  whom  he 
had  confided,  and  dishonoured  by  the  menial 
whom  he  had  fed : — "  and  on  this  return,"  said 
George,  "  to  find  you  here,  in  the  possession  of 
every  earthly  blessing,  affords  a  contrast,  which, 
while  it  cannot  decrease  my  joy  at  the  happiness 
of  your  lot,  makes  my  own  miserable  destiny 
still  more  evident  to  myself." 

"  George/'  said  James,  "  calm  yourself,— my 
wife  is  not  likely  to  do  me  the  same  favour  that 
yours  has  been  pleased  to  do  you ;  but,  in  the 
depth  of  your  disappointment,  if  hearing  of 
another's  mortifications  and  misadventures  will 
be  the  slightest  consolation,  I  will  give  you  an 
insight  into  my  history.  Console  yourself, 
therefore,  by  thinking  that  we  all  have  our  mis- 


144  THE    SUTHERLANDS. 

fortunes,  and  the  only  difference  in  the  fates  of 
men  is,  that  evils  assail  them  in  different  shapes. 
Shut  the  door, — calm  yourself, — sit  down — and 
listen" 

George,  who  had  at  first  seen  nothing  but  joy 
and  happiness  in  the  proceedings  of  his  prudent 
brother,  endeavoured  to  abstract  his  thoughts 
from  his  own  evils,  and,  rubbing  his  hand  once 
or  twice  across  his  forehead,  (why,  I  never  could 
guess,)  betook  himself  most  philosophically  to 
listening  to  James's  detail. 

This  conference  lasted  more  than  an  hour ; 
and  when  the  brothers  left  the  drawing-room, 
they  both  wore  an  air  of  composure  and  placi- 
dity which  was  quite  astonishing. 

As  they  parted  to  dress,  George  was  over- 
heard to  whisper  James,  "  Our  cases,  I  think, 
ought  to  strengthen  the  necessity  of  attending 
to  that  proverb  which  says  'look  before  you 
leap/" 

c;  Yes,"  replied  James  to  George,  somewhat 
archly  ;  "  and  our  example,  George,  may  pretty 
well  serve,  to  illustrate  that  other  proverb 
which    sa3^s,  c  marry  in  haste  and  repent 

AT  LEISURE  !'" 


THE 


MAN  OF  MANY  FRIENDS. 


VOL.  I. 


THE 


MAN  OF  MANY  FRIENDS. 


I  take  it  for  granted  that  all  my  readers 
know  George  Arden — Indeed  to  doubt  the  fact 
were  to  cast  an  imputation  which  a  body  so 
numerous  and  respectable  but  ill  deserves  at  my 
hands. 

To  the  remote  circles  of  Llangefni,  in  the 
suburbs  of  Penzance,  or  the  coteries  of  Eccle- 
fechan,  his  name  may  yet  be  new,  but  to  Lon- 
don and  its  environs — to  frequenters  of  clubs, 
Newmarket,  and  the  watering-places,  it  is  as  fa- 
miliar as  our  household-gods — or,  as  an  excellent 
lady  of  my  acquaintance,  now  alas !  no  more, 
used  to  call  them,  her  "  household  goods." 

Lest,  liowever,  by  the  remotest  chance  in  the 
world,  the  range  of  circulation  destined  for 
these  stories  should  include  any  one  of  those 
h  2 


148  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

towns  to  which  I  have  permitted  ignorance 
upon  a  matter  of  so  much  notoriety,  I  will, 
for  the  benefit  of  country  gentlemen,  give  the 
slightest  possible  sketch  of  my  hero.  In  Lon- 
don it  will  be  easily  filled  up  and  finished. 

George  Arden  was  left  an  orphan  at  seven 
years  of  age,  heir  to  an  immense  fortune,  which 
a  prospective  minority  of  fourteen  summers,  pro- 
mised greatly  to  increase  before  his  arrival  at 
years  of  discretion.  Alas !  had  that  period  been 
fixed  morally,  instead  of  legally,  for  the  assump- 
tion of  his  rights  and  properties,  poor  George, 
I  fear,  would  have  lived  and  died  a  minor.  He 
was  educated  in  a  manner  suitable  to  his  ex- 
pectations, and  from  that  admirable  school, 
Eton,  removed  in  due  course  to  Oxford,  where 
his  proceedings  very  closely  resembled  those  of 
many  other  young  gentlemen  who  prefer  plea- 
sure to  plodding,  and  whose  efforts,  however 
laborious,  certainly  do  not  tend  to  academic 
honours  in  any  degree  whatever. 

The  talented  author  of  Reginald  Dalton 
has  given  so  elaborate  a  description  (sometimes 
too  unfavourable,  let  the  uninformed  believe,)  of 
the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  an  Oxford  life, 
that  it  is  quite  needless  for  me  to  detail  the  va- 
rious campaigns  in  which  my  hare-brained  hero 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  149 

was  engaged,  until  he  quitted  the  classic 
quad  of  Christ  Church  for  the  still  more  classic 
ground  of  Italy  and  Greece. 

A  tour  under  the  surveillance  of  a  tutor,  by 
three  years  his  senior,  was  destined  to  polish 
our  Adonis  and  fit  him  for  the  niche  which  he 
was  doomed  afterwards  to  fill  in  civilized  socie- 
ty; and  certainly  his  accomplishments  when  he 
returned  to  England,  and  the  possession  of  his 
unincumbered  estates,  were  multiplied  beyond 
the  most  sanguine  hopes  and  expectations  of  his 
uncle,  under  whose  guardianship  he  had  been 
so  carefully  and  expensively  reared  to  man- 
hood. 

This  uncle  was  a  man  of  the  world ;  shrewd, 
odd,  penetrating,  rigidly  honourable,  high-prin- 
cipled and  apparently  to  George,  a  little  severe. 
Throughout  the  minority  of  his  nephew  he  had 
fondly  cherished  the  hope  of  uniting  him  to  a 
cousin  of  his  own,  whose  father  had  many  years 
before  died  abroad,  and  whose  mother  was  re- 
married, and  who  in  days  of  childhood  had  been 
the  playmate  of  George,  for  whom  at  that  early 
period  of  her  life  she  had  formed  the  strongest 
attachment :  but  years  had  flown  since  those 
happy  days  of  innocence  and  joy.     Changes  in 


150  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

their  circumstances,  their  ages,  and  pursuits, 
had  obliterated  from  George^s  mind  all  traces  of 
his  rosy-cheeked  relative,  and  another,  more 
lovely,  nobler,  and  wealthier,  had  usurped  the 
place,  which,  as  a  boy,  he  had  assigned  in  his 
young  heart  to  the  artless  Louisa. 

How  strangely  do  the  feelings  of  females  differ 
from  those  by  which  the  opposite  sex  are  ac- 
tuated !  Louisa  was  a  child,  a  very  child  when 
she  called  George  Arden  her  "  sweetheart," 
when  she  plucked  the  reddest  roses  and  the 
whitest  jasmines  to  trim  out  his  hoop,  or  made 
wings  of  silver  paper  for  his  soaring  kite  to 
glitter  in  the  sunshine,  and  when  her  light  locks 
wantoned  in  the  breeze,  and  her  light  heart 
beat  with  pleasure  as  she  heard  her  loved  boy 
approaching. 

He  too,  flushed  with  the  glow  of  youthful 
health  and  exercise,  would  bound  over  the  lawn 
and  field  to  meet  his  "  sweet  Louisa,"  and 
sit  and  watch  her  bright  eyes,  play  with  her 
curls,  and  kiss  her  coral  lips  and  call  her  "  little 
wife" — and  he  loved  her  then  as  much  as  she 
loved  him,  and  they  thought  no  other  two  could 
love  so  dearly. 

Time  had  flown  onwards — Louisa's  light 
tresses  had  grown  darker  by  age,  the  fire  of 


THE    MAX    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  151 

intellect  illuminated  her  fine  countenance ;  ac- 
complishments adorned  her  mind,  new  graces 
decked  her  person ;  but  the  one  thought  of 
George  Arden  lived  in  her  constant  heart :  she 
recurred  to  those  days  of  perfect  innocence  and 
unalloyed  happiness,  with  a  deep  interest  min- 
gled with  something  very  like  regret.  He  had 
forgotten  all — or  if  remembered,  Louisa  flashed 
across  his  recollection  as  a  childish  hoyden,  with 
whom  he  had  romped  when  a  child  himself; — 
but  no  more — he  did  not  carry  in  his  mind's 
eye  her  progress  to  perfection — he  saw  her  only 
as  the  awkward  girl  of  nine  or  ten  years  of  age, 
and  never  calculated  what  she  must  have  been 
at  nineteen  or  twenty. 

At  the  time  this  narrative  commences  they  had 
not  met  for  more  than  ten  years :  for,  after  her 
mother's  second  marriage,  she  had  left  her  uncle's 
house  for  her  maternal  roof ;  and  if  she  could  at 
any  time  during  that  period  have  claimed  the 
smallest  spot  in  the  "  waste"  of  George's  memo- 
ry, at  the  moment  of  his  return  to  England 
from  the  Continent  there  was  no  room  for  her 
unpretending  charms  in  his  heart,  which,  like 
other  hearts,  was  licensed,  speaking  officially, 
"  to  carry  not  exceeding  one  inside,1"'  (at  least 
at  a   time):  he   had   seen  the  lovely,   learned 


J 52  THP;    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS, 

Lady  Frances  Bellamy,  and  had  fallen  a  victim 
to  her  beauty  and  Blueism. 

There  are  some  pieces  of  otherwise  agreeable 
intelligence,  which,  owing  to  the  circumstances 
under  which  they  reach  us,  become,  if  not  posi- 
tively unpleasant,  at  least  much  less  gratifying 
than  in  a  different  temper  of  mind  they  could 
not  fail  to  be ;  and  when  Colonel  Arden  heard 
that  the  house  of  Bellamy  saw  no  objection  to 
the  union  of  their  highly-gifted  daughter  with 
his  wealthy  nephew,  although  the  alliance  was  at 
once  honourable  and  advantageous,  and  pro- 
mised, as  it  seemed,  happiness  and  comfort,  a 
pang  of  disappointment  shot  through  his  heart, 
when  he  reflected  that  this  splendid  connexion 
would  necessarily  give  the  death-blow  to  his  fa- 
vourite project  of  a  marriage  between  George 
and  his  cousin  Louisa. 

The  die,  however,  was  cast;  the  invitation 
which  had  before  been  despatched  to  the  bloom- 
ing Louisa  to  visit  her  uncle,  and  meet  her 
cousin  on  his  return  from  the  Continent,  was  re- 
voked; and  the  poor  girl,  who  had,  without  any 
knowledge  of  her  uncled  ulterior  intentions  on 
the  subject,  anxiously  looked  forward  to  a  re- 
union with  her  old  and  well-remembered  play- 
felloWj  was  destined  to  remain  in  the  silence  and 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  153 

solitude  of  the  Elizabethan  house  of  her  father- 
in-law,  who  had  fortunately  obtained  the  ma- 
tured heart  of  her  mother,  just  at  the  time 
when  George  commenced  his  travels. 

No  sooner  did  the  gay,  volatile,  and  open- 
hearted  George  establish  himself  in  London, 
than  his  Oxford  friendships  were  renewed ;  men 
whom  he  had  met  at  foreign  courts  rejoiced 
again  to  see  their  amiable  friend;  a  house  in 
Grosvenor  Street,  furnished  splendidly,  a  cellar 
admirably  stocked,  a  first-rate  Dog-Cook  and 
assistants,  a  set  of  horses  for  town,  hunters  at 
Melton,  and  running-horses  at  Newmarket,  prac- 
tically sounded  his  merits  and  virtues,  and  his 
door  was  actually  besieged  by  crowds  of  men, 
all  courting  his  acquaintance,  and  all  combin- 
ing, as  if  by  common  consent,  to  praise  his  wine, 
exalt  his  dinners,  win  his  money,  drive  his  car- 
riages, and  ride  his  horses. 

The  bright  object  of  all  his  hopes  and  fears 
was  to  arrive  in  town  as  early  in  the  ensuing 
London  winter  as  June — it  was  now  May,  and 
the  fame  of  my  gay  hero  did  not  fail  to  reach 
her  ears  even  before  she  left  "  our  good"  and 
crazy  city  of  Paris. 

Colonel  Arden,  who  had  gathered  from  the 
h5 


154  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

young  and  Reverend  Mr.  Ormsby,  his  nephew's 
tutor,    that   his   disposition   was  excellent,   his 
talents  of  a  superior  order,   and  his  mind  the 
most  ingenuous  and  confiding,  felt  that  as  the 
young  man  was  absolute  master  of  at  least  four- 
teen thousand  pounds  per  annum,  the  conduct 
he  was  pursuing  in  the  great  world  was  perfect- 
ly justifiable  by  his  circumstances ;  and  as  the 
old  gentleman  joined  to  an  intimate  knowledge 
of  society,  a  liberality  not  common  to  age,  he 
saw  nothing  in  the  career  of  his  nephew  more 
than  a  proper  display  of  wealth,    and  a   due 
maintenance   of  the  respectability  attached   to 
the  station  in  life  which  he  was  fully  entitled 
to  occupy. 

Amongst  George's  friends,  his  favourites  as- 
suredly were  Sir  Harry  Flowerdale,  a  Baronet, 
and  ex-member  of  parliament;  Arthur  Dyson, 
a  sly,  calculating,  younger  brother  of  a  good 
family,  addicted  in  a  certain  degree  to  play ;  and 
Harry  Dallimore,  a  perfect  dandy  in  the  best 
and  most  liberal  acceptation  of  the  term,  and 
a  lady-killer  to  boot.  These,  and  the  agreeable, 
gay,  and  easy  libertine,  Bertie  Noel,  formed  the 
supreme  council  of  George's  establishment:  but, 
besides  these,   there  were   semi-bosom  friends, 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  155 

who  occasionally  approached  the  conclave  of 
Grosvenor  Street  as  being  dependants  or  friends 
of  the  actual  members  of  it : — for  instance, 
Flowerdale  contrived  to  introduce  to  his  friend 
Arden  such  persons  as  he  thought  might  even- 
tually combine  to  return  him  for  a  Borough 
in  Yorkshire,  but  to  whom  it  was  not  quite  con- 
venient to  himself  to  give  dinners — these  of  course 
dined  at  Arden's.  Dyson  could  always  make 
up  a  little  sporting  party,  if  required,  and  was 
sure  to  know  some  three  or  four  men  who  either 
had  horses  to  sell,  or  who  wanted  horses  to  buy, 
and  these  also,  of  course,  Mr.  Arthur  Dyson, 
who  appeared  to  have  assumed  the  character  of 
clerk  marshal  in  the  household,  paraded  at  seven 
o'clock  at  Arden's  hospitable  board,  whenever 
any  changes  were  about  to  take  place  in  the 
mews,  the  stable,  or  the  kennel. 

George  was  sufficiently  quick-sighted  to  dis- 
cover that  his  friend  Dyson  was  a  disciple  of 
that  school  whose  leading  axiom  is  "  that  all  *« 
fair  in  horse-dealing ;"  but  he  fancied  himself 
too  good  a  judge  of  the  noble  animal,  whose 
qualities  and  perfections  engrossed  all  Arthur's 
thoughts,  and  pervaded  all  his  conversations,  to 
allow  any  man  to  overreach  him  in  that  parti- 


156  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

cular.  The  consequence  was,  that  his  stalls  in 
London  were  at  times  crowded  with  useless 
steeds,  his  stalls  at  Melton  inhabited  by  slugs 
and  roarers,  and  as  for  his  Newmarket  specula- 
tions, which  were  conducted  under  the  same  sur- 
veillance, their  nature  may  easily  be  ascertained, 
when  I  say  that  his  best  friends  and  most  in- 
timate associates  eagerly  took  all  the  long 
odds  he  chose  to  lay  upon  his  favourites,  or, 
tailing  in  that,  would  go  the  length  of  betting 
the  long  odds  most  manfully  against  them. 

Still,  however,  time  flew  swiftly  and  gaily, 
for  what  had  George  Arden  to  do  with  care  ? 
The  rosy  May,  though  fashionably  a  winter 
month,  led  on  the  smiling  summer  of  nature,  and 
June,  which  was  to  bring  to  his  longing  eyes 
the  lovely  Lady  Frances  Bellamy,  was  fast  ap- 
proaching. The  solicitudes  and  anxieties  of 
love  were  to  be  counteracted  by  dissipation  and 
pleasure  ;  and  laughed  out  of  his  proper  feelings 
by  his  many  friends,  the  giddy  George  em- 
barked in  play,  merely  pour  passer  le  temps. 
Three  weeks,  however,  had  not  closed  before 
his  friend  Flowerdale,  whose  finances  had  suf- 
fered severely  in  his  late  unsuccessful  Parlia- 
mentary contest,  having  pocketed  seven  thou- 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  157 

sand  pounds  of  George's  money,  suddenly  and 
unexpectedly  quitted  London  and  eventually 
England,  having  discovered  at  this  particularly 
seasonable  juncture  that  gaming  was  the  most 
destructive  vice  upon  earth ;  to  prove  the  sin- 
cerity of  which  opinion,  he  left  on  the  evening 
of  his  departure  a  letter  of  advice  to  his  dear 
friend  George  Arden,  entreating  him  to  curb  the 
propensity  for  play,  which,  but  too  evidently  to 
all  his  well-wishers,  was  strong  upon  him. 

George  felt  disappointed  that  his  dear  bosom- 
friend  Flowerdale  should  have  so  abruptly  left 
the  happy  circle,  but  still  more  annoyed  at  his 
lecture.  However,  he  reflected  for  a  moment 
that  experience  must  be  purchased,  that  Flow- 
erdale was  involved,  that  he  wanted  the  monev, 
and  finally  that  his  letter  had  been  dictated  by- 
real  friendship,  in  which  he  was  cordially  joined 
by  Dyson  and  Dallimore,  who  drowned  the 
few  unpleasant  reflections  which  floated  in 
George's  mind  in  bumpers  of  claret,  and  soothed 
away  all  his  angry  feelings  with  repeated  ques- 
tions of  "  what  did  it  signify  ?"  and  "  where  is 
the  harm  ?" — and  as  many  declarations  that 
"  Flowerdale  was  an  excellent  fellow  !"  and 
"  meant  no  wrong,"  &c.  &c. 


158  THE    MAN   OF   MANY   FRIENDS. 

To  George  this  favourite  merely  gave  place 
to  others,  who  were  soon  enrolled  in  the  select 
list  of  his  companions,  and  the  festivities  of 
Grosvenor  Street  lost  none  of  their  vivaciousness 
by  the  secession  of  the  prudent  baronet  from  the 
party,  until  the  occurrence  of  that  event  which 
had  been  so  anxiously  expected  by  my  hero,  and 
which  soon  put  a  stop  to  the  course  of  gaieties, 
or  at  all  events  worked  a  striking  change  in 
their  character  and  nature. 

The  Earl  of  Roxeth  and  his  Countess,  and 
their  blooming  daughter  the  Lady  Frances  Bel* 
lamy  arrived  in  London ;  and  George,  as  it  might 
be  expected,  was  constantly  at  her  side.  Her 
Ladyship  was,  as  I  have  said  before,  handsome, 
but  she  was  learned,  and  in  her  intercourse  with 
George,  however  much  she  liked  the  man,  and 
however  seasonable  her  noble  father  considered  the 
addition  to  her  portion  of  his  fourteen  thousand 
pounds  per  annum,  she  somewhat,  undervalued 
her  lover's  intellect, — and,  moreover,  in  addition 
to  the  opinion  which  she  had  formed  of  him  in- 
dividually, had  naturally  a  disposition  (by  no 
means  uncommon)  to  show  off  her  superiority 
over  her  associates  in  the  most  striking  manner 
whenever  an  opportunity  occurred.     This  pro- 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    F1UENDS.  159 

pensity,  and  my  reader  must  have  remarked  it  in 
others,  rendered  her  while  engaged  in  a  tite-d- 
tete  excessively  agreeable  as  a  companion,  but 
the  moment  a  third  person  arrived,  that  viva- 
ciousness  which  had  charmed  in  her  conversation 
became  matter  of  exhibition  to  the  new  comer, 
and  the  former  companion  and  even  the  older 
friend  instantly  became  the  mark  for  her  ridi- 
cule, and  the  butt  for  those  shafts  of  satire, 
which  she  so  well  knew  how  to  aim,  but  which  her 
Ladyship,  feeling  with  the  ancient  that :— "  Ne- 
mo orator  sine  multitudine  audiente," — without 
the  excitement  of  an  audience  to  witness  her  skill, 
did  not  consider  it  necessary  to  her  reputation 
to  fire  off:  in  short,  the  Lady  Frances  was,  as 
all  pedantic  women  are,  disagreeable  and  uncer- 
tain, self-opinionated,  flighty,  above  the  things 
of  this  world,  and,  to  use  a  common  expression 
which  has  more  truth  in  it  than  those  who  are  per- 
petually using  it  perhaps  think,  "  a  little  mad" 
George  Arden  had  frequently  spoken  to 
Lady  Frances  of  Harry  Dallimore,  his  intimate 
friend,  in  terms  of  unqualified  admiration,  had 
eulogized  his  talents  and  praised  the  excellence 
of  his  heart.  It  was  not  unknown  to  her  Lady- 
ship that  Dallimore's  name  was  celebrated  in 


lbO     THE  MAN  OF  MANY  FRIENDS. 

certain  circles  for  his  taste,  his  accomplishments, 
and  above  all  for  his  success  in  matters  of  gal- 
lantry. To  a  philosophical  lady,  whose  graver 
hours  were  employed  upon  theories,  such  a 
person  could  not  fail  to  be  a  most  acceptable 
acquaintance ;  and  accordingly,  at  her  parti- 
cular request,  Arden  kindly  undertook  to  in- 
troduce his  favourite  friend  to  his  amiable 
mistress. 

It  was  curious  to  observe  the  effect  of  this 
introduction.  Dallimore  was  really  talented, 
but  it  was  less  by  his  talent  than  by  an  appa- 
rently implicit  devotion  to  the  present  object, 
whatever  it  might  happen  to  be,  that  he  made 
his  way  so  suddenly  and  favourably  with  Lady 
Frances.  His  enthusiastic  descriptions  of  some 
beautiful  specimens  of  argillaceous  schist  us, 
which  he  had  procured  from  Zillerthal,  with 
a  dissertation  upon  the  copper  and  calamine 
which  he  flattered  himself  he  had  discovered 
in  them;  the  distinctness  with  which  he  an- 
swered her  enquiries  as  to  whether  the  former 
more  partook  of  the  character  of  the  Kup- 
ferkies  or  the  Weisskupferez,  and  his  happy  in- 
timacy with  the  Roth-cronstein-erz  of  Nagyag, 
and  the  Rothes-bleierz  of  Ekatharenburg,  de- 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  161 

lighted  her;  nor  was  she  less  charmed  when  she 
found  him  versed  in  all  the  experimental  tricke- 
ries of  science ;  she  listened  with  rapture  to  his 
details  of  the  various  modes  of  analysis  and 
combination,  and  gave  the  deepest  attention  to 
his  most  abstruse  dissertations.  It  quite  over- 
came poor  George  when  he  heard  this  couple 
descanting  upon  subjects  and  discussing  points 
which  were  far  beyond  his  comprehension; 
and  when  he  heard  these  lectures  repeated 
day  after  day,  and  found  Dallimore  at  all  hours 
in  the  boudoir  of  his  beloved,  he  began  in  some 
degree  to  repent  of  the  introduction  he  hud 
secured  for  his  friend,  whose  character  appeared 
to  have  undergone  as  complete  a  change  by  his 
association  with  the  young  s^avante  as  tartaric 
acid  could  have  effected  upon  iron. 

In  short,  George,  although  he  had  natu- 
rally the  most  perfect  confidence  in  the  honour 
of  Dallimore,  and  although  his  amour  propre 
made  him  at  first  quite  indifferent  to  his  con- 
stant intercourse  with  the  Lady  Frances,  at 
length  began  gradually  to  doubt  the  prudence  of 
his  measures,  when  one  fine  morning  his  intended 
wife  explained  to  him  with  great  force  and 
emphasis,  and  in  the  presence  of  Dallimore,  the 
primary  law  of  chemical  affinity. 


162  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Chemical  affinity,"  said  Lady  Frances, 
"  you  must  understand  will  act,  and  a  combina- 
tion take  place  between  two  bodies  when  they 
are  uncombined  with  all  other  bodies. " 

"  I  perceive,"  said  George. 

Dallimore  smiled — and  his  smile  was  one  of 
self-satisfaction. 

"  But,11  continued  the  animated  lecturess, 
"  you  must  also  understand  that  when  one  of 
the  bodies  is  in  a  state  of  combination  with 
others,  then  the  bodies  which  really  have  the 
greatest  affinity  for  each  other  cannot  entirely 
combine  together.11 

"  You  comprehend  that,  George  r11  said  Dalli- 
more. 

"  Perfectly,11  answered  George,  which  by  the 
way  was  not  the  case — but  let  that  pass. 

"  Suppose,11  said  Lady  Frances,  "  exempli  gra- 
tia, that  two  bodies  A  and  B  have  an  affinity  for 
each  other,  and  are  actually  in  a  state  of  combi- 
nation —  and  suppose,11  continued  her  Ladyship, 
pointedly  addressing  herself  to  the  elegant  Dalli- 
more, "  C  is  a  third  body  which  has  a  stronger 
affinity  for  the  body  B  than  the  affinity  which 
exists  between  A  and  B,  it  is  quite  clear  that 
the  compound  body  A  B  will  be  decomposed, 
and  the  body  C  will  combine  with  the  body  B.11 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  163 

"  And,"  continued  Dallimore,  "  entirely  leave 
the  body  A." 

The  poor  body  A,  most  interested  in  this 
matter,  however  dull  men  generally  are  to  that 
which  principally  concerns  themselves,  and 
which  at  the  same  time  is  perfectly  obvious  to 
every  body  else,  could  not  fail  to  perceive 
from  the  fortuitous  coincidence  of  the  initials 
of  their  names,  added  to  the  emphatic  delivery 
of  the  lady,  and  the  apt  rejoinder  of  the  gen- 
tleman, that  more  was  meant  than  absolutely 
met  the  ear,  and  that,  in  fact,  the  process  of 
decomposition  was  rapidly  proceeding,  even  ad- 
mitting that  the  new  combination  had  not  actually 
commenced ;  and  George  determined  to  shew  that 
he  was  not  so  easily  to  be  deceived  and  laughed  at 
as  the  enlightened  couple  appeared  to  imagine  : 
he  rose  and  left  the  boudoir  angrily,  thinking  by 
withdrawing  himself,  to  break  up  the  conference ; 
but  he  was  mistaken  in  his  tactics.  The  pur- 
suit of  science  was  too  hot,  and  the  system  too 
interesting  to  give  way  to  any  passing  event, 
and  our  irritated  lover  quitted  the  drawing- 
room  resolved  to  settle  the  affair  that  evening, 
by  calling  his  friend  to  account  for  conduct 
which   he   neither  anticipated  nor  understood. 


164  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

In  fact,  George  Arden  was  labouring  under 
that  sort  of  surprise  in  which  the  satisfactory 
mingleth  not — and  as  he  walked  homewards 
to  Grosvenor  Street,  it  appeared  to  him,  either 
that  he  was  asleep,  or  just  awakened  from 
an  extremely  disagreeable  dream.  He  revolved 
in  his  mind  the  progress  of  Dalliniore's  ac- 
quaintance with  his  learned  fair  one,  and 
ruminated  upon  all  the  "  trifles  light  as  air" 
which  combined  themselves  in  his  mind  con- 
nected with  the  subject ;  feeling,  however,  as  I 
must  honestly  confess,  something  like  consola- 
tion in  this  very  unpleasant  dilemma,  from  the 
recollection  that  prevention  is  better  than  cure, 
and  the  consideration  that  if  the  Lady  Frances 
was,  as  she  appeared  to  him  at  that  moment  to 
be,  a  jilt  and  a  coquette,  it  was  extremely  lucky 
for  him  that  her  Ladyship's  disposition  had 
evinced  itself  before  they  were  irrevocably 
united. 

Reaching  home  in  this  particular  mood,  he 
discovered,  waiting  his  arrival,  his  constant 
friend  Dyson,  to  whom  he  candidly  and  inge- 
nuously opened  his  heart,  and  from  whom  he 
sought  advice  as  to  what  he  should  do  under 
the  circumstances ;  his  own  feeling  being  that 
he  ought  in  the  first  place  to  exclude  Dallimore 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  165 

from  his  house,  and  then  speedily  summon  him 
to  a  meeting,  in  order  to  obtain  at  least  an  ex- 
planation of  his  very  extraordinary  conduct. 

Dyson,  to  whom  our  hero  was  at  the  moment 
indebted  in  a  considerable  sum  of  money,  heard 
the  history  of  all  his  doubts  and  fears  with  per- 
fect complacency,  and  calmly  considering  in  his 
own  mind  that  if  any  fatal  accident  should  occur 
to  Arden,  in  consequence  of  a  hostile  meet- 
ing with  Dallimore,  he  not  only  should  lose 
his  excellent  friend,  but  more  than  that,  the 
amount  due  from  his  estate  for  debts  of  ho- 
nour— proceeded  to  expatiate  upon  the  impro- 
bability of  any  thing  intentionally  improper 
having  been  done  on  the  part  of  Dallimore — 
and  upon  the  possibility  of  mistake  on  the 
part  of  Arden,  till  in  conclusion,  after  soothing 
the  irritation  of  his  dear  George,  he  volunteered 
to  be  the  bearer  of  a  message  to  Dallimore, 
not  of  warlike  import,  but  in  the  way  of  ex- 
planation; and  added,  that  he  was  perfectly  sure 
every  thing  would  be  quite  right  in  the  end, 
begging  George  to  be  convinced  that  he  would 
take  as  much  care  of  his  honour  as  if  it  were 
his  own. 

Dyson,  it  will  be  seen,  had  his  game  to  play 


166  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

He  had  no  notion  of  risking  his  own  security  of  a 
constant  comfortable  home,  the  kind  aid  of  a  li- 
beral friend,  and,  moreover,  the  prospect  of  pay- 
ment of  sundry  debts  beforementioned,  by  any 
rash  proceeding;  superadded  to  which  the  whole 
devotion  of  his  life  had  been  latterly  expended 
in  prayers,  that  the  much  desired  match  between 
the  blue  belle   and   Arden   might   never   take 
place.  He  knew  well  enough,  as  far  as  related  to 
himself,  that  he  was  not  a  fit  associate  for  pe- 
dantry in  petticoats,  and  very  reasonably  anti- 
cipated his  own  immediate  expulsion  from  the 
scientific  circle,  of  which  he  had  no  doubt  the 
Lady  Frances  would  cause  herself  to  be  en- 
throned the  centre,  very  speedily  after  her  as- 
sumption of  the  monarchy  in  Grosvenor  Street. 
Whatever  measure  Dyson  might  have  pro- 
posed to  his  friend,  however  active  and  ready 
might  have  been  his  interference  upon  the  occa- 
sion,  everything  was   rendered   unavailing,  all 
precautions  baffled,  all  proceedings  invalidated, 
by  an    occurrence   which   those   who   thought 
they  knew  the  Lady  Frances  certainly  did  not 
foresee— the  truth  is,  that  the  alarm  had  been 
given  to  the  scientific  lovers  (for  lovers  they 
were)  by  the  jealous  irritation  of  Arden  in  the 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  167 

morning,  and  the  following  night,  Love  lent  them 
wings  in  the  shape  of  a  travelling-carriage  and 
four  horses,  and  before  the  confiding  Arden 
awoke  to  a  sense  of  his  friencTs  duplicity,  they 
were  "  over  the  hills  and  far  away"  on  the  high 
road  to  happiness. 

There  are  persons  to  be  found  in  this  great 
town,  who  say  that  Dyson  himself  lent  Dalli- 
more  the  carriage  used  upon  this  memorable 
expedition,  and  some  even  go  so  far  as  to  add, 
that  four  bays,  abstracted  at  a  late  hour  from 
Arden's  stables,  under  Dyson's  order,  conveyed 
the  happy  couple  the  first  stage  of  the  journey 
— whether  this  be  calumny  or  not,  time  perhaps 
may  shew. 

When  my  jilted  hero  received  from  his  ser- 
vant in  the  morning  the  news  of  Lady  Frances's 
elopement,  he  certainly  did  inveigh  bitterly 
against  Dallimore,  whom  he  decided  to  be  the 
partner  of  her  flight;  while  even  at  the  very 
moment  the  noble  father  of  the  fugitive  was,  or 
affected  to  be,  perfectly  ignorant  upon  the  sub- 
ject, and  actually  sent  to  enquire  whether  Arden 
was  at  home,  as  if  he  imagined  his  affection 
for  his  daughter  had  been  sufficiently  powerful 
to  drive  him  to  the  anticipation  of  their  intended 


168  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

marriage — a  measure  of  which  nobody  in  their 
senses  could  reasonably  have  suspected  him. 

When  his  Lordship,  however,  found  that 
Lady  Frances  had  made  some  other  swain  the 
partner  of  her  flight,  and  that  all  hopes  of 
Arden's  fortune  were  lost  to  his  illustrious 
house,  he  repaired  forthwith  to  the  abandoned 
lover,  whom  he  found  attended  by  the  excellent 
Dyson  and  the  agreeable  Noel,  who  in  their 
different  ways  had  been,  previously  to  his  Lord- 
ship's arrival,  endeavouring  to  console  him  for 
the  loss  of  his  fair  one — Noel  by  assuring  him  that 
he  was  certain  her  family  were  by  no  means  of 
the  "  first  water,"  and  Dyson  by  repeatedly  ex- 
pressing his  conviction  that  she  was  not  a  good 
judge  of  a  horse;  in  the  midst  of  which  consola- 
tory conversation,  as  I  have  just  mentioned,  her 
noble  father  entered  the  apartment,  and  was 
about  to  deliver  his  sentiments  upon  the  extra- 
ordinary undutifulness  of  his  child,  when  a  let- 
ter bearing  the  Barnet  post-mark,  was  handed 
to  Arden.  He  read  it — not  without  some  marks 
of  perturbation;  and  having  concluded  it,  handed 
it  to  the  noble  Earl — rising  at  the  same  time 
from  table,  and  withdrawing  with  Dyson  and 
Noel  into  the  hbrary,  as  I  suppose,  to  reveal  the 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  169 

purport  of  the  communication  and  consult  those 
estimable  young  gentlemen  upon  the  nature  of 
his  future  proceedings. 

The  letter  was  from  the  Lady  Frances  her- 
self, and  ran  thus — 

"  This  letter  will  reach  you  when  I  shall  be 
at  a  distance  from  you,  and  as  far  as  our  in- 
tended union  is  concerned,  eternally  separated 
from  you. 

"  The  step  I  have  taken  is  one  which  I  am 
quite  aware  will  entail  upon  me  the  anger  of 
my  father,  and  the  censure  of  the  world ;  but 
you  must  not  blame  me,  for  I  felt  afraid  that 
neither  of  us  could  be  happy  in  marriage.  I 
have  every  esteem  and  regard  for  you — my  opi- 
nion of  your  heart  and  disposition  has  under- 
gone no  change  since  our  first  meeting  on  the 
Continent,  but  a  closer  intimacy  with  you  has 
latterly  convinced  me  that  our  tastes  and  pur- 
suits are  so  diametrically  opposed,  that  any 
thing  like  a  constant  association  with  each  other 
could  have  been  productive  of  nothing  but  con- 
stant disagreement. 

"  To  have  appealed  to  you  in  this  stage  of 
the  affair,  would  have  been  as  useless  as  to  have 
thrown  myself  upon  the  consideration  of  my  fa- 

VOL.  I.  I 


170  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FEIENDS. 

ther,  who  I  knew  would  not  have  listened  to 
the  expression  of  doubts  founded  upon  my  self- 
knowledge  and  a  conviction  of  the  dissimilarity 
of  our  characters  and  dispositions.  I  therefore 
risked  the  imputation  of  temporary  imprudence 
to  secure  myself  from  continuous  misery. — I 
found  in  your  amiable  and  intelligent  friend,  a 
being  who  sympathized  with  me  in  every  pur- 
suit, who  entered  into  all  my  views,  who  saw 
with  me,  felt  with  me,  and  whose  mind  and  cha- 
racter, in  short,  appeared  formed  to  render  me 
happy :  all  this  will  sound  perhaps  heartless  to 
those  who  do  not  really  know  me — amongst  the 
number,  yourself.  This,  too,  may  surprise  you ; 
but  it  is  true,  there  never  has  existed  between  us 
that  "  similar  sympathy'"  so  beautifully  and  deli- 
cately described  by  Jackson,  which  is  so  essential 
to  a  reciprocity  of  confidence  and  mutuality  of 
affection.  It  was  a  consciousness  of  the  absence  of 
this  agreement  of  inclinations  that  rendered  me 
miserable,  and  I  saw  before  me,  only  a  gloomy 
vista  leading  from  the  altar  to  the  grave.  I  have 
taken  the  deciding  step  of  my  destiny :  to  Italy 
my  fond  and  accomplished  husband  will  accom- 
pany me,  and  there,  beneath  a  sky  as  cloudless  as 
our  minds,  we  will  shew  the  world  what  real 


THE    MAN    GF    MANY    FRIENDS.  171 

happiness  is,  and  where  true  contentment  may 
be  found. 

"  And  now  one  word  about  my  husband — 
you  must  wholly  acquit  him  of  duplicity,  or 
any  ungenerous  plotting  against  your  happiness. 
He,  like  me,  saw  in  your  marriage  with  me  no- 
thing but  misery  for  you — he  spoke,  he  acted  in 
every  respect  like  a  friend; — I  have  frequently 
witnessed  his  amiable  distress  when  we  have  been 
discussing  your  merits  and  good  qualities,  and 
the  dreadful  apprehensions  we  mutually  felt  for 
your  future  comfort ; — in  short,  if  we  have  con- 
spired,  it  has  been  for  your  advantage.  He  begs 
me  to  say,  that  nothing  but  our  hurried  mode 
of  travelling  prevents  his  writing.  I  have  pre- 
pared this  letter,  and  shall  leave  it  at  the  first 
post-town  on  the  road,  so  that  it  may  reach  you 
in  the  morning.  I  shall  write  to-morrow  to  my 
father,  whose  apprehensions  of  such  a  step  as 
that  which  I  have  taken  are,  I  am  quite  sure, 
not  yet  awakened.  Your  conduct  this  morning 
accelerated  the  execution  of  our  scheme,  and 
I  feel  confident  that  you  will  be  reconciled  to 
an  event,  which,  while  it  destroys  the  doubt 
of  your  happiness  through  life,  has  ensured  that 
of  one  for  whom  you  have  always  professed  a 
i2 


172  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

sincere  regard,  and  who  can  never  cease  to  re- 
member you  with  sentiments  of  the  warmest 
esteem  and  friendship.  I  shall  not  sign  this 
scrawl — you  will  be  at  no  loss  to  know  whence  it 
comes,  and  the  next  communication  I  shall  make 
to  my  friends  will  be  under  a  different  name. — 
Once  more,  adieu  l" 

The  noble  Earl  having  perused  this  splendid 
specimen  of  his  fair  daughter's  epistolary  style, 
doubled  up  the  letter,  emphatically  pronouncing 
a  strong  and  rather  long  word,  which,  were  the 
vice  of  swearing  practised  by  the  aristocracy, 
might  have  been  misunderstood  for  the  syno- 
nyrne  of  eternal  condemnation  in  a  future  state. 

George,  it  was  clear,  could  do  nothing  in 
the  affair;  for,  as  Dyson  said,  it  seemed  pretty 
evident  that  the  Lady  had  carried  off  the  lover ; 
at  least  such  was  the  impression  made  by  the  in- 
dependent account  which  she  herself  had  been 
pleased  to  give  of  the  business. 

George,  with  the  best  feelings,  and  a  determi- 
nation to  pursue  that  which  should  be  consider- 
ed the  right  and  honourable  course,  with  the  ad- 
vice of  the  noble  and  disappointed  Earl,  and  of 
his  amiable  and  zealous  younger  friends,  put 
himself  entirely  into  their  hands:   the  decision 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  173 

was  unanimous,  that  he  could  move  no  far- 
ther in  the  matter;  that  her  Ladyship  had 
made  her  election,  and  that  he  was  doomed  to 
the  willow,  without  remedy  or  revenge.  If 
George  had  worn  a  window  on  his  breast,  it 
appears  probable  that  the  most  evident  feeling 
of  his  heart  would  have  been  found  to  be 
offended  pride.  His  amour  propre  was  the 
greatest  sufferer  in  the  affair,  and  the  loss  of 
Lady  Frances  was  light  by  comparison  with 
the  triumph  of  his  treacherous  and  successful 
rival. 

There  were  now  several  courses  to  be  pur- 
sued, independently  of  any  measures  personally 
towards  the  new  married  couple;  and,  after  wa- 
vering as  to  how  he  should  conduct  himself  re- 
latively to  the  world  upon  his  misfortune,  he  re- 
solved, under  the  advice  of  his  friends,  to  in- 
crease, if  possible,  the  splendour  and  frequency 
of  his  parties ;  to  extend  the  circle  of  his  ac- 
quaintance ;  and,  in  short,  to  dissipate  his  cares 
in  gaiety  and  revelry,  and  at  the  same  time  daz- 
zle with  the  brilliancy  of  his  entertainments  those 
eyes,  which  else,  perhaps,  would  scrutinize  too 
closely  the  causes  of  his  distress  and  disappoint- 
ments. 


174  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

Amongst  the  most  exciting  pursuits  into 
which  his  defeat  had  diverted  his  genius  and 
talents,  play,  to  which  he  had  already  shewn  a 
predisposition,  presented  itself  in  the  most 
tempting  garb.  He  knew  that  even  prosper- 
ous love  itself  succumbs  before  the  spirit  of 
gambling — that  domestic  comforts  and  rational 
pursuits  yield  to  its  influence.  If  this  were  the 
case,  disappointed  affection  he  naturally  thought 
might  be  easily  cured  by  its  soul-absorbing  power. 
Dyson  soon  collected  a  herd  of  sympathizing 
friends,  who  nursed  the  growing  propensity ;  and 
the  nightly  orgies  of  Grosvenor  Street  shortly 
became  subjects  of  nuisance  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  of  speculation  in  the  newspapers. 

His  time  and  property,  however,  were  not  ex- 
clusively devoted  to  the  one  pursuit ;  a  series 
of  dinners,  admirably  put  down,  with  all  the 
agrtmtns  of  superior  wines,  still  attracted  good 
company,  and  Arden's  parties  glared  conspicu- 
ously in  the  Morning  Post ;  concerts  and  fetes 
shared  his  attentions,  and  his  dreadful  failure 
with  the  Lady  Frances  was,  as  all  important 
events  in  London  society  generally  are,  very 
soon  forgotten. 

Meanwhile  Colonel  Arden,  although  merely 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  175 

a  ceremonious  and  periodical  correspondent  with 
his  nephew,  received  from  other  quarters  con- 
tinuous hints  and  warnings  of  the  perilous 
situation  in  which  George  was  placed,  surround- 
ed by  giddy  and  thoughtless  companions,  and 
discovered  that  he  was  forming  connexions, 
male  and  female,  as  little  advantageous  to  the 
respectability  of  his  character,  as  conducive  to 
his  health  or  prosperity ;  in  short,  the  house  in 
Grosvenor  Street  was  described  to  the  Colonel 
as  a  scene  of  unprincipled  libertinism,  and  it  was 
represented  to  the  old  gentleman,  that  ruinous 
consequences  might  be  confidently  and  speedily 
expected,  if  the  present  course  of  his  nephew's 
life  continued  to  be  followed. 

The  moment  the  Colonel  heard  of  the  frus- 
tration of  the  marriage  with  Lady  Frances,  the 
old  desire  for  George's  union  with  his  cousin 
Louisa  was  revived.  There  appeared  to  him 
if  not  a  probability,  at  least  something  like 
a  possibility,  of  its  happy  conclusion,  and  the 
old  gentleman  almost  rejoiced  at  the  abrupt 
termination  of  an  affair  which  he  had  never  quite 
liked,  merely  because  it  militated  so  powerfully 
against  his  warmest  wishes. 

The  Colonel  had  received  from  his  thought- 


176  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

less  nephew  such  an  account  of  the  business  as 
proved,  satisfactorily  to  him,  that  his  heart  had 
never  been  very  much  concerned  in  the  proposed 
marriage  with  the  noble  female  philosopher ;  he 
had  been  dazzled  and  caught  by  the  pretensions 
and  accomplishments  of  the  young  lady,  which, 
added  to  the  dash  of  nobility  and  the  sound  of 
title,  had  conspired  to  entangle,  but  not  to 
wound,  her  captive. 

No  sooner  did  the  old  gentleman  receive  the 
authentic  and  philosophical  detail  of  George's 
defeat,  than  he  disposed  himself  in  his  travelling- 
carriage,  ordered  his  man  to  pack  up  some 
clothes,  and  at  the  tails  of  four  smoking  posters, 
proceeded  to  the  ivy-crested  mansion  which  con- 
tained his  favourite  niece  Louisa.  Thanks  to 
Mr.  Mac- Adam  (who  somewhere  has  been  wag- 
gishly called  the  Colossus  of  Roads)  the  old 
gentleman  was  not  long  on  his  journey,  and 
early  in  the  second  day  received  the  welcome  of 
his  sister  and  her  charming  daughter.  The  ab- 
sence of  her  father-in-law,  upon  business,  did 
not  in  the  smallest  degree  distress  the  Colonel, 
who,  with  all  his  admirable  qualities,  had  some 
peculiarities  in  his  character  which  did  not  re- 
commend him  so  generally  to  strangers,  as 
those  who  knew  and    loved   him  best  desired, 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS,  177 

and  amongst  the  number  of  those  whom  it  was 
not  his  good  fortune  to  please,  his  wealthy 
brother-in-law  was  one. 

"  Kate,"  said  the  Colonel,  "lama  bold  man 
at  seventy-two — I  am  come  to  carry  off  your 
daughter." 

"  Indeed !"  exclaimed  his  sister,  immediately 
suspecting  the  real  nature  of  the  ColoneFs 
plan — "  and  whither  do  you  propose  to  take 
her?" 

"  To  the  mart  of  all  sin,  vice,  and  iniqui- 
ty," exclaimed  Arden,  "to  the  very  Babel  of 
all  human  mischief — London. ? 

"  After  such  a  character  of  the  place,"  said 
Louisa,  "  I  should  be  almost  afraid  to  venture, 
uncle ." 

"  Afraid — you  afraid !"  cried  the  animated  old 
man,  "  fear  nothing,  my  child,  while  I  am  alive 
to  guard  you :  I  want  you  to  see  life,  the  world, 
its  gaieties — its  follies,  if  you  will." 

"  Is  such  a  course  of  education  necessary  for 
a  girl  like  Louisa  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Darrenton. 

"  Absolutely — positively — I'll  take  no  denial, 
Kate." 

"What  has  moved  you  to  such  an  enterprise?" 
asked  the  old  lady. 

i  5 


178  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 


"  A  desire  to  dissipate  my  property,  Ma'am," 
said  her  brother :  "  Wealth  is  like  marl — not 
worth  a  farthing  while  piled  upon  a  heap,  but 
productive  and  profitable  when  scattered  abroad.'' 

"  Surely,  my  dear  uncle, "  said  the  unsus- 
pecting girl,  "  surely  you" — 

"  Surely  you,"  echoed  the  Colonel,  "  Surely 
you  don't  object  to  my  spending  my  own  money 
— you  are  my  avowed  heiress — I  shall  leave  all 
I  have  left  to  you,  you  young  rogue — don't 
grudge  me  a  little  enjoyment  before  I  die." 

This  was  an  artful  attack — the  Colonel  was 
an  old  soldier  and  saw  the  vulnerable  point. — 
Louisa  had  nothing  more  to  say,  and  her  mother 
little  more  to  object  to  her  proposed  excursion  to 
the  Metropolis  with  her  uncle :  what  his  sister 
chiefly  apprehended  was  that  the  eccentric,  wild 
(indeed,  untamed  by  age)  habits  of  the  veteran, 
unused  too  as  she  apprehended  he  must  have 
become  to  the  modern  manners  of  the  fashion- 
able world,  might  involve  him  in  difficulties 
which  he  did  not  contemplate,  and  perhaps 
expose  his  little  protegee  to  some  unpleasant 
adventures;  however,  the  six-and-eightpenny 
feeling  which  predominates  in  every  class  and 
station,  and  upon  which  the  cynics  say  every 
action  of  human  life  is  bottomed,  was  too  strong 


THE    MAN   OF   MANY   FKIENDS.  179 

to  be  resisted ;  and  the  serious  recollection  that 
Louisa  was,  as  the  old  gentleman  himself  indeed 
had  observed,  the  intended  heiress  of  all  his  pro- 
perty, and  that  the  disposition  of  that  property 
depended  entirely  upon  his  individual  will  and 
pleasure,  induced  the  prudent  parent  to  with- 
draw all  opposition,  and  Louisa,  who  fondly  loved 
her  uncle,  and  had  never  visited  London,  felt 
no  great  displeasure  at  the  announcement  of  her 
mother's  full  and  free  consent  to  the  journey. 

"  I  have  an  ulterior  object  in  all  this,"  said 
the  Colonel  to  his  sister,  when  the  blushing  girl 
had  left  the  room :  "  Can  you  guess  what  it  is, 
Kate?" 

"  I  think  I  could  surmise,  George,"  answered 
the  lady ;  "  the  accounts  you  have  received  of 
your  nephew  are  not  quite  satisfactory." 

"  Hit  it,  by  Jove,  Kate !"  exclaimed  the 
veteran  :  "  the  boy  is  mad — ruinously  mad — 
surrounded,  I  am  told,  by  absolute  black-legs 
and  sharpers,  the  victim  of  their  chicanery,  the 
dupe  of  their  duplicity — I  '11  put  a  stop  to  this." 

"  Indeed !" 

"  Yes,  Kate.  I  have  a  plan — a  scheme — I 
know  it  is  to  be  done." 

"  And  how  ?"  enquired  Mrs.  Darrenton* 

"  There's  my  secret — leave  the  developement 


180  THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

to  time.  Little  Loui  and  I  must  settle  it  all," 
said  the  Colonel. 

"  She,  poor  child !  I  should  think  will  have  but 
a  small  share  in  the  business,"  said  her  mother. 

"  Small ! — the  entire — the  whole — I  shall  be 
the  mere  general  in  the  field — I  shall  leave  all 
the  campaign  to  the  youngsters." 

"  Indeed !  brother,"  said  Mrs.  Darrenton, 
"  my  poor  child  will w 

"  Save  your  brother's  poor  child,  Ma'am  !** 
said  Arden,  "  nothing  on  earth  can  rescue  a 
young  man  of  strong  feeling  and  high  spirits 
from  ruin,  but  the  influence  of  woman.  Louisa 
shall  save  her  cousin,  and  have  him  for  her 
pains." 

"  If  this  be  your  plan  I  fear  I  must  recal  my 
permission,"  said  Mrs.  Darrenton. 

"  Indeed,  Mrs.  Darrenton,  you  shall  do  no 
such  thing,1"'  said  the  Colonel :  "  I  am  neither 
rash  nor  doting — I  am  not  new  to  the  world." 

"  But  she  is,"  interrupted  the  anxious  pa- 
rent, "  and  what  chance  can  a  poor,  artless,  un- 
sophisticated girl  have  in  the  reformation  of  a 
town  rake  ?" 

"  Sister,  he  is  no  town  rake,"  said  the  Co- 
lonel— "  that  he  will  be  one,  unless  the  disorder 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  181 

be  taken  at  its  outset,  I  admit ;  but  he  is  not 
yet  ruined :  and  as  for  her  artlessness,  her  un- 
sophistication — sister,  you  know  nothing  about 
it — it  is  by  such  qualities,  and  such  qualities 
alone  that  your  sex  captivate  and  controul  the 
other.  Look  at  that  fine,  fly-away  philosopher  in 
petticoats,  my  Lady  Frances,  a  shew-woman — like 
Madam  Catharina,  with  watchwork  under  her 
hoop  !  What  did  she  do  ? — she  began  lectur- 
ing and  tom-fooling  with  as  great  a  quack  as 
herself,  and  off  she  went  like  a  detonating  ball, 
and  with  as  little  pressing,  I  take  it." 

"  But  pray,  let  me  entreat  you,  George,  to 
consider" — 

"  I  tell  you,  Kate,  I  have  considered,  and  I 
have  decided,  which  is  more  to  the  purpose. 
You  know  how  well,  how  truly  I  love  both  these 
young  people :  they  once  loved  each  other,  and 
they  shall  love  each  other  again.  I'll  bring 
them  together,  and  I  don't  care  what  I  am  called 
for  doing  so. — I  know  they  are  made  for  each 
other ;  and  this  is  the  very  moment  when  her 
interposition  may  save  the  boy.  But,  hark  ye, 
sister — not  a  word  to  the  girl  herself — it  must 
be  kept  secret — it  must  all  result  from  circum- 
stances and  events;  and  if  Louisa  knows  any 


182  THE    MAX    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

thing  of  the  nature  of  my  scheme,  the  whole  of 
it  will  be  frustrated." 

"  But,  perhaps,  my  dear  brother,"  said 
Mrs.  Darrenton,  "  my  husband  will  disapprove 
of  her  going." 

"  Your  husband,  Kate,"  answered  the  Co- 
lonel, "  What  have  I  to  do  with  your  hus- 
band ?  You  are  a  very  excellent  person,  and 
a  most  affectionate  sister,  and  your  first  spouse 
and  I  were  brother  soldiers,  and  I  had  the  high- 
est regard  for  him;  but  he  is  dead — gone — cut 
off — cropped — and  has  left  my  niece  behind  him. 
You  have  married  again :  Darrenton  is  one  of 
those  excellent  anomalies,  called,  in  this  strange 
country  of  ours,  upright,  downright  men ;  his 
temper  is  as  sweet  as  the  sugar  he  sells;  his 
character  as  sound  as  his  rum, — but  he  is  no 
conjuror — and  moreover,  has  no  vote  in  my  col- 
lege :  he  answers  your  purpose — keeps  an  esta- 
blishment together,  and  makes  you,  I  dare  say, 
very  comfortable ;  but  as  to  his  anger  or  plea- 
sure touching  my  niece,  Louisa,  I  don't  care 
three  of  his  sugar-loaves ;  nor  will  I  suffer  him 
to  interfere  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  Well,  my  dear  George,"  said  his  sister, 
"  I  did  not  say"— 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  183 

"  Yes,  but  you  did  sat/,  Kate,  that  it  might 
not  be  agreeable  to  Mr.  Darrenton  to  part  with 
Louisa.  What's  that  to  me — he  cannot  marry 
your  daughter.  Why  spoil  a  match  ?  I  'm  all 
for  matrimony:  no  girl  should  be  single  after 
eighteen,  if  I  were  king." 

"  Why,  what  would  you  do  to  prevent  it  ?" 
asked  the  old  lady. 

"  Do  ?  my  dear  sister,  never  mind  what  I 
would  do — I 'd  pass  acts  of  Parliament — Bounty 
bills— issue  proclamations — orders  in  council — 
I  don't  know  what  I  would  not  do.  But  as  I 
am  not  king,  I  know  what  I  will  do,  and  that 
is,  please  the  Pix,  I'll  marry  Louisa  to  her 
cousin  George.1"' 

And  upon  this  measure  the  Colonel  was  now 
so  perfectly  decided,  that  not  all  the  persuasions 
of  the  world  united,  would  have  diverted  him 
from  the  pursuit.  To  Mrs.  Darrenton  it  appeared 
then,  as  in  all  probability  it  does  to  my  reader 
now,  that  a  more  wild  and  visionary  plan  was 
never  hit  upon,  but  as  I  always  say  in  doubtful 
cases,  time  will  shew. 

One  point,  however,  he  carried  (and,  indeed, 
amongst  his  own  relations  it  was  a  way  he  had) 
which  was  that  Louisa  was  in  no  manner  to  be 


184  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

made  acquainted  with  any  part  of  the  scheme, 
that  no  hint  was  to  be  dropped  of  the  possibility 
of  her  meeting  George — a  point  the  more  rea- 
dily conceded  by  her  mother,  because  she  could 
not  quite  divest  herself  of  an  apprehension  that 
the  interest  excited  by  young  Arden,  when  a 
boy,  in  the  infantine  heart  of  her  daughter,  still 
existed  in  a  certain  degree.  Louisa,  it  is  true, 
possessed  too  much  dignity  of  character  amidst 
her  simplicity,  too  much  self-controul  amidst  her 
gaiety,  to  permit  this  feeling,  even  had  she  ac- 
knowledged it,  to  display  itself;  yet  sure  it  is, 
that  when  she  heard  of  the  abrupt  termination 
of  George's  affair  with  Lady  Frances,  she  did 
not  feel  dissatisfied,  and  when  the  summons  to 
London  was  sounded  by  her  uncle,  her  antici- 
pations of  the  objects  which  she  was  to  see  in 
the  Metropolis,  were  not  unmixed  with  a  wish, 
that  her  cousin  George  might  be  amongst  the 
number. 

Amongst  the  ColonePs  striking  characteristics 
were  decision  and  promptitude — he  had  the 
"  halt,  left  wheel"  spirit  of  his  youth  still  strong 
upon  him  in  age,  and  had  no  notions  of  needless 
delays  and  useless  arrangements.  Two  hours 
only  were  allowed   Louisa   to   prepare  for  the 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  18.5 

forced  march — a  rapidity  which  I  can  the  more 
easily  account  for  in  the  present  instance,  than 
in  some  others:  seeing,  first,  that  the  Colonel 
was  anxious  to  reach  the  Metropolis  as  speedily 
as  possible;  and  secondly,  that  having  no  re- 
spect for  the  calling  or  intellect  of  Mr.  Darren- 
ton,  (who  was,  nevertheless,  an  intelligent  opulent 
Liverpool  merchant,)  his  chief  anxiety  was  to 
escape  from  that  gentleman's  residence  with  his 
prize,  without  what  he  considered  the  misery  of 
an  interview  with  a  man  whose  occupation  he 
undervalued,  and  for  whose  intellectual  qualities 
he  had  the  most  unmixed  contempt.  With  all 
these  motives  to  action,  there  mingled  an  ap- 
prehension that  her  father-in-law  might  seriously 
object  to  his  niece's  departure ;  so  that  to  those 
who  know  the  old  gentleman  as  well  as  I  do, 
it  will  not  appear  strange,  that  before  sunset, 
he  and  his  fair  charge— his  man  and  her  maid, 
were  all  snugly  disposed  for  the  night  at  the 
Black  Lion  Inn,  at  Congleton,  on  their  way  to 
town. 

By  one  of  those  happy  coincidences,  which 
every  day  occur,  the  evening  succeeding  the 
day  upon  which  Arden  and  his  niece  arrived  in 
London,  had  been  fixed  by  George  for  a  splen- 


186  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

did  masquerade.  Somebody  had  told  him  that 
masquerades  were  now  as  perfectly  exploded  in 
decent  society,  as  powder  for  ladies  and  two 
pronged  forks ;  his  ambition  was  therefore  ex- 
cited, and  his  resolution  taken  to  attempt  the 
revival  of  a  species  of  entertainment  once  so 
fashionable :  the  truth  is,  that  in  the  days  when 
masquerades  flourished,  women  of  quality  con- 
sidered it  necessary  to  hide  their  faces  when  they 
mixed  in  bad  society — but  now,  that  flagrant  vice 
sits  barefaced  in  the  gay  saloon,  and  crowds  of 
wives  and  daughters  undisguised,  participate  in 
the  fruits  of  acknowledged  prostitution,  proclaim- 
ing by  their  presence  the  triumph  of  guilty 
affluence  over  principle  and  propriety;  masks 
are  useless.  It  is  true  that  George's  house  and 
establishment  had  acquired  that  sort  of  reputa- 
tion, which  rendered  it  as  well  for  modest  fe- 
males to  appear  there  incognita,  and  this  know- 
ledge added  to  the  wonderful  exertions  of  his 
friends  upon  the  occasion ;  a  magnificent  enter- 
tainment was  anticipated. 

To  this  entertainment  old  Arden  meant  to 
go,  and  take  his  niece — a  measure  which  he  was 
happily  enabled  to  accomplish  without  suspicion, 
his  attorney  having  received  tickets  from  his 
nephew  for  the  fete.    It  was  to  the  house  of  this 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  187 

attorney  (situated  in  Montague  Place,  near  Rus- 
sell Square)  that  the  old  gentleman  and  Louisa 
immediately  proceeded  on  their  arrival  in  town : 
it  was  there  they  were  received  by  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Abberly,  its  master  and  mistress,  with  the 
most  cordial  warmth  and  unfeigned  pleasure. 

The  Abberlys  were  at  dinner  when  their  guests 
arrived,  the  guests  themselves  having  dined  early 
to  please  the  old  gentleman  at  some  distance 
from  the  Metropolis.  The  meal  was  speedily 
finished,  and  the  dessert  put  down,  and  Arden, 
who,  as  the  reader  may  imagine,  was  most  anxious 
to  hear  tidings  of  his  misguided  nephew,  com- 
menced a  series  of  enquiries  upon  the  interest- 
ing subject,  when  Mrs.  Abberly  interrupted  the 
conversation  by  asking  her  husband  "  just  to 
ring  the  bell." 

This  request  having  been  complied  with,  a 
servant  appeared,  to  whom  his  mistress  whis- 
pered, "  Tell  Dawes  to  bring  the  children  :v 
the  man  disappeared,  and  the  lady,  turning  to 
Louisa,  with  one  of  those  sweet  smiles  which 
ladies  about  to  praise  themselves  are  in  the  habit 
of  putting  on,  said,  "  We  are  very  old-fashioned 
folks,  Miss  Neville.  Mr.  A.  and  myself  make  it 
a  rule  to  have  all  the  children  round  us  every 
day  after  dinner—  some  people  don't  like  it,  but 


188  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

I  hope  and  trust  we  shall  never  be  so  fashion- 
able as  that  comes  to." 

Miss  Neville  was  about  to  rejoin  something 
very  laudatory,  touching  infantine  attraction 
and  maternal  affection,  when  a  considerable  up- 
roar and  squalling  was  heard  in  the  hall,  and 
the  parlour  door  flying  open,  Dawes  made  her 
appearance,  attended  by  seven  fine  healthy  crea- 
tures, varying  in  their  height  from  four  feet  two, 
to  two  feet  four,  and  in  their  ages  from  ten  to 
three  years.  Chairs  were  ranged  around  the 
table  for  the  young  fry,  who  were  extremely 
orderly  and  well-behaved  for  a  short  time,  and 
in  the  first  instance  taken  to  the  Colonel  to  be 
praised :  the  old  gentleman,  who  was  not  parti- 
cularly fond  of  nestlings  at  any  time,  but  whose 
whole  heart  and  soul  were  at  the  present  moment 
occupied  in  the  affairs  of  his  prodigal  nephew, 
kissed  one  and  patted  the  other,  and  "  blessed 
the  little  heart"  of  this  one,  and  "  pretty  deared" 
that  one,  until  the  ceremony  of  inspection  and 
approbation  having  been  fully  gone  through, 
the  whole  party  was  turned  over  to  Louisa,  to 
undergo  a  second  similar  operation ;  after  this, 
they  were  placed  upon  the  chairs  assigned  to 
them,  Dawes  retired,  and  the  conversation  was 
resumed. 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  189 

i(  And  pray  now,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  what 
is  your  real  opinion,  Mr.  Abberly,  of  the  state 
of  poor  George's  pecuniary  affairs  ?" 

"  Sir,"  said  Abberly,  "  I  really  think,  if  you 
wish  me  to  speak  candidly — Maria,  my  dear, 
look  at  Georgina, — she  is  spilling  all  the  sugar 
over  the  table." 

"  Georgina,"  said  Mrs.  Abberly,  emphatically, 
"  keep  still,  child ;  Sophy,  help  your  sister  to 
some  sugar." 

"  I  really  believe,"  continued  Mr.  Abberly, 
"  that  Mr.  George  Arden — Sophy,  put  down  that 
knife— Maria,  that  child  will  cut  her  fingers  off, 
how  can  you  let  her  do  so — I  wonder  at  you — 
upon  my  word,  Sophy,  I  am  quite  ashamed  of 
your 

"  Sophy,  you  naughty  girl,"  cried  her  Mam- 
ma, "  put  down  that  knife,  directly,  or  I  '11  send 
you  up-stairs." 

"  I  was  only  cutting  the  cake,  Ma,"  said  Sophy. 

"  Don't  do  it  again,  then,  and  sit  still," 
exclaimed  the  mother;  and  turning  to  Louisa, 
added  in  an  under-tone,  "  pretty  dears,  it  is  so 
difficult  to  keep  them  quiet  at  that  age." 

;s  Well,  Sir,"  again  said  the  Colonel,  "  but 
let  me  beg  you  to  tell  me  seriously  what  you 
advise  then  to  be  done  in  the  first  instance." 


190  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Why,  there  is  but  one  course,11  answered 
the  lawyer,  who  was  a  man  of  first-rate  talent; 
"  you  know,  Sir,  there  are  different  modes  of 
treating  different  cases,  but  in  this  instance  the 
course,  I  think,  is  clear  and  evident — Tom,  you 
naughty  child,  you  "11  be  down;  get  off  the  back 
of  Colonel  Arden's  chair  directly." 

"  What  a  funny  pig-tail,11  exclaimed  some- 
body, in  reference  to  a  minute  article  of  that 
sort  worn  by  the  Colonel.  Sophy  laughed  and 
slapped  her  brothers  shoulder. 

"  Hush,  William,11  exclaimed  Mrs.  Abberly, 
holding  up  her  hand  in  a  menacing  posture. 

"  And  that  course,"  continued  the  master  of 
the  house,  "  if  there  be  a  chance  yet  left  of  pre- 
serving the  young  man,  it  will  be  absolutely 
necessary  to  pursue.11 

"  Tell  me,  then,  for  God's  sake,"  said  the 
Colonel,  deeply  interested,  and  highly  agi- 
tated, "  what  you  propose  should  be  our  first 
measure.1 ' 

"  George,  my  love,11  exclaimed  Mrs.  Abber- 
ly to  her  husband,  "  will  you  be  good  enough 
to  speak  to  Robert,  he  won^  leave  Sophy 
alone,  and  he  don't  mind  me  the  least  in  the 
world.11 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  191 

"  Robert,  be  quiet,"  thundered  out  his  father 
in  an  awful  tone. 

"  She  won't  give  me  any  cherries,  Pa,"  said 
Robert. 

"  That's  a  story,  now,  Robert,"  cried  the 
eldest  girl,  who  was  nearly  ten  years  old,  and 
was  screwed  in,  and  poked  out,  to  look  like 
a  woman;  with  curls,  and  a  necklace,  and  a 
dress  exactly  like  her  mother's,  who  was  forty. 

"  I  'm  sure  you  have  had  more  than  Sophy — 
only  you  are  such  a  rude  boy." 

"  Bless  my  heart !"  said  the  Colonel,  half  aside, 
and  warming  a  little  with  the  events,  "  I  beg 
your  pardon,  what  did  you  say  you  would 
advise,  Mr.  Abberly  ?" 

"  Decidedly  this,"  said  Abberly,  "  I " 

"  My  love,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Abberly  once 
more,  "  is  that  port  or  claret,  near  you  ?  Dr. 
Mango  says  Maria  is  to  have  half  a  glass  of  port 
wine  every  day  after  dinner,  this  hot  weather, — 
half  a  glass — thank  you — there  —  not  more — 
that  will  do,  dear ;"  —  here  Mr.  Abberly  had 
concluded  the  operation  of  pouring  out.  "  Tom," 
said  Mamma,  "  go  and  fetch  the  wine  for  your 
sister,  there 's  a  dear  love." 

Tom  did  as  he  was  bid,  tripped  his  toe  over 


192  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FltlENDS. 

the  corner  of  the  rug  in  passing  round  the 
table,  and  deposited  the  major  part  of  the  port 
wine  in  the  lap  of  Miss  Louisa  Neville,  who  was 
habited  in  an  apple-green  silk  pelisse,  (which 
she  had  not  taken  off  since  her  arrival,)  that 
was  by  no  means  improved  in  its  appearance 
by  the  accidental  reception  of  the  contents  of 
Miss  Maria's  glass. 

"  Good  God!  Tom,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Abberly, 
"  what  an  awkward  child  you  are ! — dear  Miss 
Neville,  what  shall  we  do? — ring  the  bell,  Sophy, 
send  for  Simmons,  or  send  for  Miss  Neville's 
maid — Miss  Neville  pray  take  off  your  pelisse.1' 

"Oh,  I  assure  you  it  is  not  of  the  slight- 
est consequence,"  said  Louisa,  with  one  of  her 
sweetest  smiles,  at  the  same  moment  wishing 
Tom  had  been  at  the  bottom  of  the  Red  Sea 
before  he  had  given  her  the  benefit  of  his  gati- 
cherie ;  a  stain  upon  a  silk  dress  being,  as  every 
body  knows,  at  all  times  and  seasons  a  feminine 
aggravation  of  the  first  class. 

Tom,  anticipating  a  beating  from  some  quar- 
ter, but  which,  he  did  not  stop  to  calculate,  set 
up  a  most  mellifluous  howling;  this  awakened 
from  its  peaceful  slumbers  a  fat  poodle,  who 
had  been  reposing  after  a  hearty  dinner  beneath 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  393 

the  table,  and  who  forthwith  commenced  a  most 
terrific  barking. 

"  Be  quiet,  Tom,"  said  Mr.  Abberly,— "  Ma- 
ria,  my  angel,  do  keep  the  children  still." 

"  Ma,"  exclaimed  Maria  junior,  "  I  'm  not 
to  lose  my  wine, — am  I  Pa?" 

"  No,  my  love,  to  be  sure,"  said  Abberly ; 
"  Come  here  and  fetch  it  yourself,  my  darling." 

"  She  had  better  drink  it  there,  Mr.  A.,"  said 
the  prudent  mother. 

And  accordingly,  under  the  surveillance  of  his 
wife,  who  kept  watching  him  as  to  the  exact 
quantity,  periodically  cautioning  him  with — there, 
my  love  —there,  my  dear — that  will  do — no  more, 
my  love,  &c. — Mr.  A.  as  she  Bloomsburily  called 
him,  poured  out  another  half  glass  of  port 
wine,  as  prescribed  by  Doctor  Mango,  for  his 
daughter. 

Old  Arden,  whose  patience  was  nearly  ex- 
hausted, and  who  thought  that  Mrs.  Abberly 
was,  like  Lady  Cork's  chairs  upon  state  occa- 
sions, screwed  to  her  place,  sought  what  he  con- 
sidered a  favourable  "lull,"  as  the  sailors  call  it, 
to  endeavour  to  ascertain  what  Abberly's  plan 
for  the  redemption  of  his  nephew  actually  was, 
and  had  just  wound  himself  into  an  interroga- 

vol.  i.  K 


194     THE  MAN  OF  MANY  FRIENDS. 

tive  shape,  when  Mrs.  Abberly  called  his  atten- 
tion by  observing,  "  that  a  certain  little  lady," 
looking  very  archly  at  Miss  Maria,  "wanted 
very  much  to  let  him  hear  how  well  she  could 
repeat  a  little  poem  without  book." 

Mrs.  Abberly  had  prepared  Louisa  for  this,  by 
whispering  to  her,  that  such  exhibitions  created 
emulation  in  the  nursery,  and  that  Dawes  was  a 
very  superior  person,  and  with  Miss  Gubbins, 
(who  was  quite  invaluable,)  brought  them  on 
delightfully. 

" 1  shall  be  charmed,  Ma'am,"  said  the  Colo- 
nel, heaving  a  sigh.  And  accordingly  the  child 
stood  up  at  his  side,  and  began  that  beautiful 
bit  of  Barbauldism  so  extremely  popular  in  the 
lower  forms  of  preparatory  schools,  called  "  The 
Beggar's  Petition."  Arden  could  not,  however, 
suppress  a  significant  ejaculation,  quite  intelli- 
gible to  his  niece,  when  the  dear  little  Maria, 
smelling  of  soap  and  bread  and  butter,  with  her 
shoulders  pushed  back,  her  head  stuck  up,  and 
her  clavicula?  developed  like  drum-sticks,  squeak- 
ed out  the  opening  line — 

"  Pity  the  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  man." 

M  Ah  !" — exclaimed  Arden,  at  the  same  time 
pushing  back  his  chair  and  twirling  his  thumbs. 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  195 

"  Pity  the  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  man," 

continued  the  sweet  innocent, 

"  Whose  trembling  limbs  has  bore  him  to  oo  door, 
Whose  dace  are  dwilden'd  to  is  sortest  pan, 
Oh " 

"  Give  relief," 
said  Mrs.  Abberly. 

"  Give  a  leaf," 
said  the  child, 

"  And  Heaven" — 
continued  Mrs.  Abberly. 

"  Give  a  leaf  and  Heaven" — 

repeated  Maria, 

"And|Heaven"— 

"  Well,  what's  next  ?"  said  Mr.  Abberly. 

"Give  a  leaf  and  Heaven,  well  what's  next?" 

said  the  child. 

"  No,  my  dear  love,"  said  her  papa,  patting 
her  little  head, — 

"  Heav'n  will  bless  your  store." 

Why  you  said  it  yesterday,  my  darling,  without 
missing  a  single  word.'" 

"Heav'n — will  bless  your  store." 
said  the  child. 

"  Now  that 's  all  learnt  from  the  book,  Colo- 
nel,v  said  Mrs.  Abberly,  "  not  by  rote  !" 
k  2 


196  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Very  pretty  indeed,  Ma'am,"  said  the  Co- 
lonel, "  very  clever  !" 

"  Ah  !  but  there  are  six  more  verses,  Sir," 
said  Sophy ;  "  she  only  knows  three,  —I  can 
say  'em  all !" 

"  That  you  can't,"  said  Tom;  "  I  can  say 
'em  better  than  you ;  besides,  I  can  say  all 
about  <  The  Black-beetle's  Ball,1  and  4  The  Bull 
and  the  Watering-pot.' " 

"  Oh,  you  story-teller,  Tom  P 

ie  I  can,"  said  Tom ;  "  you  may  go  and  ask 
Miss  Gubbins  if  I  can't." 

"  I  know  you  can't  Tom,  and  Miss  Gub- 
bins said  so  only  yesterday,"  replied  Sophy. 

"  Hush,  hush,  my  dears  !"  said  the  master  of 
the  house,  "never  mind  who  says  that;  you 
know  you  are  older  than  Tom,  my  love.  Pray 
Colonel,'"  said  the  fond  father,  turning  to  the 
agitated  old  man,  "  do  you  think  Sophy  grows 
like  her  mother  ?" 

"  Very  like  indeed,"  said  the  Colonel ;  at  the 
same  moment  patting  Master  Robert  on  the 
head,  who  happened  to  be  standing  by  him, 
playing  with  his  watch-chain  and  seals; — the 
merry-andrew  dresses  of  the  younger  branches 
of  the  family  not  very  distinctly  marking  the 
difference  in  their  sexes. 


the  man  of  many  friends.         197 

About  this  period  the  Colonel,  who  was  on 
the  point  of  despair,  observed,  that  he  thought 
Louisa  had  better  go  and  change  her  dress, 
hoping  that  a  move  on  her  part  would  induce 
the  mistress  of  the  house  to  carry  off  her  troop 
of  chickens.  Nor  was  he  wrong  in  his  expecta- 
tions, although  the  operation  was  not  so  speedily 
effected  as  he  had  imagined.  The  ceremonies  of 
re-ringing  the  bell,  re-summoning  the  servant, 
re-ordering  Dawes,  were  all  to  be  performed  in 
detail,  and  were  accordingly  gone  through,  with 
that  sort  of  mechanical  precision,  which  proved 
beyond  a  doubt,  that  it  was,  as  Mrs.  Abberly 
had  said,  "  their  constant  custom  in  the  after- 
noon" to  parade  their  promising  progeny  after 
dinner. 

The  various  fidgettings  and  twistings  of  old 
Arden,  whose  age  and  disposition  militated  con- 
siderably against  any  thing  like  a  restraint  upon 
his  feelings,  and  whose  manner  generally  indi- 
cated the  workings  of  his  mind,  had  not  escaped 
the  observation  of  Mrs.  Abberly,  who  saw  with 
a  mother's  eye  that  "  the  Colonel  was  not  fond 
of  children."  It  was  highly  complimentary  to 
her  perception  upon  this  point,  that  the  old  gen- 
tleman whispered  in  a  sort  of  mingled  agony  and 
triumph  to  Louisa  as  she  passed  him,  in  leaving 


198  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

the  dinner-parlour  with  all  the  young  fry, 
"  Oh,  for  the  days  of  good  King  Herod." 
This  fatal  speech  was  overheard  by  Mrs.  Ab- 
berly,  and  when  the  exemplary  parent  was  con- 
fiding to  the  trusty  Dawes  the  little  community, 
whose  appetites  for  supper  had  been  sharpened 
by  the  fruits,  sugars,  wines,  creams,  and  sweet- 
cakes,  with  which  they  had  been  crammed  after 
dinner,  she  observed  to  that  trusty  servant, 
"  that  Colonel  Arden  was  next  door  to  a 
brute."  Of  such  tender  stuff  is  maternity  com- 
posed, and  so  strongly  is  implanted  in  the  fe- 
male breast,  that  exquisite  tenderness  for  its 
offspring  which,  however  liable  at  times  to  cari- 
cature, is  at  once  the  sweetest  attribute  of  the 
lovely  sex  which  invariably  displays  it,  and  one 
of  the  greatest  blessings  bestowed  on  man. 

"  Well,  and  now,"  said  Colonel  Arden  as  the 
door  closed, — "  will  you  do  me  the  favour,  Mr. 
Abberly,  to  let  me  a  little  into  your  plans  for 
George  ?" 

The  answer,  though  upon  the  learned  law- 
yer's lips,  was  not  given,  when  Tom  returned  to 
the  parlour  to  fetch  Billy,  the  before-named  pet- 
dog  of  the  establishment ;  who,  though  he  could 
hardly  walk,  was  forced  to  run  and  seem  frisky, 
and  who,  half  killed  by  kindness,  was  miscalled 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  199 

a  sweet  creature  by  the  younger  branches  of  the 
family.  Billy  always  supped  with  the  children, 
and  was  now  summoned  to  the  accustomed  meal. 

After  a  certain  degree  of  hunting  and  poking 
under  the  table,  the  animal  was  extricated  from 
his  retirement,  and  peace  being  again  restored, 
the  Colonel  put  the  same  question  to  his  host, 
in  a  different  shape,  as  to  his  nephew's  affairs. 

The  answers  he  obtained  were  any  thing  but 
satisfactory,  and  it  clearly  appeared  that  George 
was  not  his  own  master — that  he  was  actually 
in  the  trammels  of  those,  whom  he  supported 
and  cherished ;  and  that  while  his  servants,  (and 
particularly  his  prime  minister,  who  was  a  noto- 
rious rogue,)  were  carrying  on  their  depredations 
in  the  domestic  part  of  his  establishment,  his 
friends  themselves  were  fattening  on  the  spoils 
of  his  fortune ;  and  that  every  means  had  al- 
ready been  resorted  to,  to  keep  up  appearances, 
and  procure  such  supplies  of  ready  money,  as 
were  absolutely  necessary  to  discharge  debts  of 
honour,  which,  to  George's  infinite  mortification, 
most  rapidly  accumulated  upon  him ;  in  fact, 
the  harpies  by  whom  he  was  environed,  first 
won  of  him  unfairly,  and  then  were  kind  enough 
to  raise  the  money  for  him,  to  pay  themselves, 
at  the  most  exorbitant  rate  of  usury :  and  there 


200  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

he  was,  bewildered  and  besotted  by  a  constant 
perseverance  in  nightly  profligacy,  unable,  as  his 
companions  persuaded  him,  to  extricate  himself 
from  a  course  of  life,  which  his  own  good  sense 
would  have  told  him  was  at  once  destructive 
and  disreputable. 

The  more  the  Colonel  heard  of  the  case,  the 
more  confirmed  he  was  in  the  excellence  of  the 
plan  he  had  laid ;  he  frankly  told  Abberly  that 
he  was  quite  convinced  that  appeals  from  an 
old  man  to  a  young  one,  upon  such  subjects  as 
these,  were  vain  and  useless,  and  that  the 
scheme  he  had  in  his  head  was  not  one  of  mere 
theories— but  as  to  what  it  was,  that  he  still 
kept  a  profound  secret,  and  even  the  principal 
performer  (next  to  himself)  was  not  aware  what 
her  part  in  the  play  was  to  be.  She  listened 
with  pleasure  when  George  was  spoken  of,  and 
heard  with  pain,  from  Mrs.  Abberly,  of  his  wild- 
ness  and  extravagance.  That  she  inquired  with 
any  personal  motive  or  interested  view,  whether 
he  was  likely  to  marry,  or  that  she  heard  that 
no  such  event  was  in  agitation  with  any  peculiar 
degree  of  satisfaction,  I  know  not ;  but  this  I  do 
know,  that  when  Mrs.  Abberly  added  to  her  in- 
formation upon  the  subject,  the  interrogatory — 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  201 

?c  Why  la,  Miss  Neville,  who  would  have  him  ?"" 
Louisa  felt  her  heart  beat,  and  a  sudden  flush 
warm  her  cheek,  as  if  she  herself  could  have  an- 
swered the  question  very  decidedly,  had  it  been 
put  to  her  by  any  person  duly  authorized. 

Scarcely,  however,  had  the  conversation  taken 
this  interesting  turn,  before  the  senior  four 
children  re-appeared  in  the  drawing-room,  ac- 
companied by  Miss  Gubbins,  (their  governess,) 
who  always  drank  tea  and  spent  the  evening  with 
the  family,  after  the  toils  of  the  day  were  over. 

The  first  operation  to  be  performed  after  the 
arrival  of  the  party  was,  the  execution,  literally, 
of  a  duet  upon  the  piano-forte,  by  Miss  Gubbins 
and  her  pupil  Sophy,  which  was  hardly  con- 
cluded before  Mr.  Abberly  (who,  in  the  dinner- 
parlour  of  his  Montague-Place  house,  had  heard 
the  jingle  of  the  instrument,  and  immediately 
proposed  removing  to  the  drawing-room ;)  en- 
tered, accompanied  by  the  Colonel,  to  whom 
Mrs.  Abberly's  manner  was  greatly  altered  since 
she  had  heard  the  avowal  of  his  dislike  to  chil- 
dren— indeed,  she  went  so  far  as  to  suggest  to 
her  husband,  Mr.  A.,  the  immediate  removal  of 
the  young  people  from  the  apartment,  as  she 
was  sure  they  worried  Colonel  Arden. 
k5 


202  THE   MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Not  they,  my  dear  Mrs.  Abberly,11  said  the 
old  man,  good-naturedly;  "  I  love  children  to 
my  very  heart,  I  assure  you,  and  would  have 
them  treated  with  every  care  and  kindness,  and 
attention ;  but  there  are  seasons  when  even  the 
most  agreeable  things  become  tiresome ;  and  you 
will,  I  am  sure,  excuse  me,  if  I  did  not  express 
all  I  thought  of  your  dear  little  ones,  after  din- 
ner,  when  you  recollect  how  deeply  I  was  inte- 
rested at  the  moment  in  the  fate  of  a  child, 
who,  if  older  in  years,  appears  to  me  little 
their  senior  in  worldly  wisdom,  and  who,  in  ad- 
dition to  difficulties  at  their  age,  has  unfortu- 
nately the  means  and  power  of  doing  mischief 
to  himself  and  others.11 

Mrs.  Abberly  was  greatly  soothed  by  this 
speech;  and  felt  almost  pleased  with  the  Colo- 
nel, when  he  called  her  favourite  Tom  (with- 
out exception  the  rudest  and  stupidest  boy  in 
Christendom)  and  placing  him  paternally  at  his 
side,  began  to  question  him  on  sundry  topics 
usually  resorted  to  upon  similar  occasions. 
From  this  promising  lad  the  old  gentleman 
learned  that  four  and  four  make  nine,  that 
William  the  Conqueror  was  the  last  of  the  Ro- 
man Emperors,   that  gunpowder  was  invented 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  203 

by  Guy  Fawkes,  and  that  the  first  man  who 
went  up  in  an  air-balloon  was  Christopher  Co- 
lumbus. In  the  extreme  accuracy  of  these 
answers,  he  received  a  satisfactory  corrobora- 
tion of  his  constant  remark  upon  the  edu- 
cation of  boys  at  home,  under  the  superin- 
tendance  of  mammas  and  governesses,  and  had 
dismissed  his  young  friend  with  an  approving 
compliment,  when  the  boy  wishing  to  shew  that 
he  knew  more  than  the  old  man  thought  for, 
looked  him  in  the  face,  and  asked  him,  who  lived 
next  door  to  him  ? 

"  Next  door  to  me,  my  fine  fellow,1'  said  the 
Colonel,  "  why,  nobody ;  that  is  to  say,  I  live 
in  the  country  far  from  any  other  house — my 
next  neighbour  is  Lord  Malephant." 

"  Ah  r  said  Tom,  "  and  is  he  a  brute,  Sir  ?" 

"  No,  my  dear,"  answered  the  Colonel ;  "  he 
is  an  excellent  man,  and  one  of  my  oldest 
friends." 

"  Ah,  then,"  said  the  boy,  "  who  lives  on 
the  other  side  of  you  ?" 

"  Why,  my  neighbour  on  the  other  side," 
said  the  Colonel,  surprised  at  the  apparently 
unnatural  inquisitiveness  of  the  child,  "  is  the 
rector  of  my  parish." 


204  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Is  he  a  brute,  Sir,"  enquired  Master  Ab- 
berly. 

"  Noymy  dear,1'  said  the  Colonel;  "a  pattern 
for  country  clergymen— never  did  there  exist  a 
better  man." 

"  Ah !"  said  Tom,  evidently  disappointed. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?"  said  his  father. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  You  should  never  ask  questions,  child, 
without  knowing  why,"  said  papa. 

"  I  do  know  why,  only  I  shan't  tell,"  said  Tom. 

"  I  desire  you  will,  Tom,"  said  his  parent, 
anticipating  a  display  of  that  precocious  wit,  for 
which  the  dunderheaded  ass  was  so  celebrated 
in  his  own  family. 

"  Oh,  I  '11  tell  it,  if  you  like !  it 's  only  because 
I  wanted  to  know  which  of  them  gentlemen  was 
brutes,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Why?  my  fine  fellow,"  said  the  Colonel, 
whose  curiosity  was  whetted  by  the  oddity  of 
the  questions. 

u  Why,"  replied  Tom,  "  because  when  Mam- 
ma was  talking  to  Dawes  just  now,  about  you, 
she  said  you  was  next  door  to  a  brute,  and  so  I 
wanted  to  know  who  he  was."'' 

This  was  the  signal  for  general  consternation ; 
Miss  Gubbins  hemmed  loud,  and  tumbled  over 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  205 

the  music,  which  lay  on  the  piano — the  eldest 
girl  laughed  outright — Mr.  Abberly  threatened 
to  whip  his  son  and  heir — Mrs.  Abberly  turned 
as  red  as  scarlet,  and  endeavoured  to  convince 
Miss  Neville  of  the  utter  groundlessness  of  the 
charge  against  her,  and  proclaimed  the  whole 
affair  to  be  a  new  instance  of  Tom's  precocious 
archness,  and  a  mere  application  of  his  own,  at 
the  moment,  of  some  story  which  he  had  heard 
some  other  person  tell. 

The  Colonel,  however,  joined  so  good  hu- 
mouredly  in  a  laugh  with  his  niece,  at  the  nai- 
vete of  the  boy,  and  bore  the  attack  with  so 
much  kindness,  that  Mrs.  Abberly,  whatever 
she  might  have  previously  thought  or  said 
upon  the  subject,  set  the  old  gentleman  down 
as  a  "  dear  kind  creature,"  and  continued  prais- 
ing him  periodically  through  the  evening  to 
Miss  Neville.  The  dear  kind  creature  himself, 
however,  was  insensible  to  her  praise,  as  he  had 
before  been  callous  to  her  censure  :  he  had  but 
one  object,  not  only  in  his  visit  to  London,  but 
in  existence,  which  was  the  rescue  of  George 
from  impending  perdition ;  which  object,  and  the 
mode  in  which  he  proposed  to  attain  to  it,  made 
all  else  seem  "  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable/' 
Whether  the  feeling  of  deep  interest  for  this 


206  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

hare-brained  youth  were  infectious,  or  whether 
her  proximity  to  her  early  playmate,  excited  in 
Louisa's  breast  similar  feelings  to  those  of  her 
uncle  on  the  subject,  I  am  unable  to  say;  but  to 
a  girl  of  her  penetration  and  discernment,  it  soon 
became  evident  that  it  was  neither  the  vice,  nor 
the  gaiety,  nor  the  society,  nor  the  sights  of 
London,  which  had  drawn  her  uncle  from  his 
green  morocco  chair,  and  forced  her  from  her 
watchful  mother's  side: — the  whole  object  of  the 
expedition  was  George,  and  his  preservation 
from  ruin.  How  she  was  to  become  instrumental 
in  the  great  undertaking,  she  had  no  precise 
idea,  but  the  conversation  in  which  she  had 
been  engaged  with  Mrs.  Abberly  after  dinner 
threw  some  light  upon  the  affair,  and  the  highly- 
wrought  description  of  the  prodigal's  dissipation 
and  involvements,  instead  of  rousing  any  bitter 
or  angry  feeling  in  the  young  lady's  bosom, 
excited  that  sort  of  confusion  and  compassion 
which,  had  they  been  evident  to  others,  would 
have  looked  more  like  the  revival  of  long  dor- 
mant love,  than  so  prudent  a  personage  as 
Miss  Neville  would  have  wished  to  be  charged 
with. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  deliberations 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  207 

of  the  Colonel  and  Mr.  Abberly,  who,  when 
his  sweet  family  were  gone  to  their  repose, 
gave  his  client  the  full  benefit  of  his  advice, 
far  different  were  the  consultations  held  in 
Grosvenor  Street  under  the  personal  inspection 
of  Noel  and  Dyson  :  the  floors  were  splendidly 
chalked  for  dancing,  mock  flowers  were  taught 
to  twine  round  marble  columns,  and  lights  to 
spring  spontaneously  from  boughs  of  trees, — 
odoriferous  shrubs  in  full  bloom  lined  the 
great  staircase ;  in  one  corner  of  the  hall  was  a 
stage  erected  for  French  jugglers;  in  the  din- 
ner parlour,  a  band  for  waltzes;  in  the  draw- 
ing-room, Colinet  and  his  troop,  for  quadrilles ; 
while  temporary  supper-rooms  spread  their  can- 
vass over  the  garden  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
and,  adorned  with  every  thing  to  delight  the 
eye  and  gratify  the  palate,  presented  to  the  mot- 
ley group  assembled  the  most  beautiful  coup- 
d'ail  imaginable. 

To  this  magnificent  fete,  under  the  care  of 
Mrs.  Abberly  and  her  uncle,  the  unsophisticated 
Louisa  proceeded ;  there  she  beheld  the  prodigal 
in  all  his  state  and  glory,  surrounded  by  his 
friends — his  house  crowded,  his  tables  groaning 
under  delicacies,  the  sounds  of  music,  the  glare 


208  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS, 

of  lights,  the  sweet  odours  of  exotics,  and 
the  smoking  incense  which  curled  amongst 
the  artificial  wreaths,  the  loud  laugh  of  the 
character-masques,  the  silly  nothingnesses  of  the 
dominos,  all  burst  upon  Louisa's  astonished 
senses,  and  the  picture  which  she  had  painted 
to  herself  of  dissipation,  and  the  grosser  vices 
of  libertinism,  in  which  she  had  imagined 
George  to  be  immersed,  were  at  once  changed 
to  rapture,  and  admiration  of  his  excellent  taste 
and  liberality  ;  and  fascinated  by  all  she  saw 
around  her,  she  found  ten  thousand  excuses  in 
a  moment  for  his  extravagance  and  thought- 
lessness. She  beheld  him  sought  and  courted,  and 
when  supper  was  announced,  he  led  to  the  ban- 
quet women  of  the  first  class  of  blood  and  beauty 
— even  Royalty  honoured  the  banquet ;  and  to 
Louisa's  eye,'accustomed  as  she  was  upon  principle 
to  venerate  and  respect  any  branch  of  the  reign- 
ing House,  the  difference  between  exalted  station 
when  adorned  by  talent  and  accomplishments, 
and  when  alloyed  by  silliness  and  meanness, 
did  not  strike  her  as  it  would  have  stricken  an 
adept  in  society.  He  was  a  prince— and  of  the 
blood;  and  as  he  smirked  and  simpered  and 
asked   his  needless   questions,   and   talked   his 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FKIENDS.  209 

ordinary  nonsense,  she  watched  him,  "  an  though 
he  were  a  derai-god  I" 

My  readers  are,  perhaps,  not  yet  aware  that 
old  Arden  had  gone  one  step  farther  in  his 
scheming  than  prudence  or  perhaps  delicacy 
would  sanction.  When  the  affair  of  Lady  Frances 
was  completely  finished,  he  had  in  a  letter  to 
George  thrown  out,  not  any  hints  about  the 
suitableness  of  a  match  with  his  fair  cousin,  but 
a  general  observation  that  he  had  in  his  eye  a 
most  amiable  and  lovely  person,  whom  he  was 
certain,  was  calculated  to  make  him  perfectly  and 
entirely  happy.  To  this  suggestion  the  young 
man,  perhaps  soured  by  the  infidelity  of  her  lady- 
ship, or  it  might  be  resolved  never  again  to  trust 
to  the  frailty  of  woman,  returned  a  general  and 
sweeping  reply,  by  stating  his  determination  not 
to  marry,  to  have  been  absolutely  and  definitive- 
ly made. 

The  Colonel  was  quite  aware  that  to  press  the 
point,  at  that  moment,  was  not  the  likely  mode 
to  carry  it ;  and  therefore  permitted  this  violent 
and  decided  rejection  of  his  proposal  to  remain 
unanswered  and  unnoticed. 

The  Colonel  was  delighted  under  all  these 
circumstances,  when,  keeping  his  own  close  dis- 

VOL.  i.  k  9 


210  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

guise,  and  engaging  the  Abberleys  to  do  the 
same,  he  requested  Louisa  to  unmask.  The 
old  gentleman  wished  to  see  the  effect  produced 
upon  his  nephew  by  her  exquisite  beauty — a 
beauty  rendered  more  brilliant  by  its  freshness. 
Unlike  the  poor  dancing  girls  of  Almacks,  who, 
before  the  season  is  three  parts  over,  are  jaded, 
and  worn,  and  haggard,  and  thin,  and  so  com- 
pletely pulled  down  from  excess  of  gaiety,  that 
even  their  hair  has  not  strength  to  curl :  here 
was  a  creature  with  lips  ruby  red,  and  eyes 
sparkling  bright,  the  sweet  glow  of  youthful 
health  beaming  on  her  cheek,  and  with  a 
manner  new,  naive,  unhackneyed,  and  un- 
like the  common  every-day  manual  and  platoon 
exercise  of  waltzing  and  looking,  which  to  a 
man  of  the  world  either  means  nothing,  or 
means  something  which  it  ought  not  to  mean. 
But  Louisa  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  give 
him  this  advantage :  he  was  caught  even  as  it 
was,  by  her  voice,  and  figure,  and  manner ;  and 
although  she  still  held  his  unknown  uncle's  arm, 
he  addressed  his  fair  visitor  just  as  the  group 
were  taking  their  leave— 

"  Surely,"    said    George,    with    an    air   of 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  211 

winning  softness,  "  I  may  be  permitted  to  know 
whom  I  have  the  pleasure  of  addressing  ?" 

"  Not  for  all  the  world !"  said  Louisa. 

"  Who  is  this  queer-looking  gentleman  in 
his  grey  domino,"  asked  George,  "  who  haunts 
your  steps  so  closely  ? — a  watchful  guardian  or 
an  anxious  uncle  V 

"  Both,"  said  Miss  Neville,  archly. 

"  Let  me  entreat,"  added  Arden ;  and  was 
proceeding  to  increase  his  intimacy  by  taking 
the  fair  one's  hand,  and  endeavouring  to  raise 
the  curtain  of  her  mask,  when  the  Colonel, 
drawing  her  closer  to  his  side,  precipitately 
retired  from  the  room. 

The  impression  made  by  either  of  these  young 
people  on  the  other  was  extraordinary.  Louisa, 
who  had  seen  George  unmasked,  made  no  scru- 
ple on  their  return  homewards  to  speak  her 
thoughts  of  her  former  play  fellow;  she  abso- 
lutely raved  about  his  taste,  eulogized  his  man- 
ners, and  in  short,  elated  as  she  was  by  the  gaie- 
ty and  novelty  of  the  scene,  became  enthusiastic 
in  his  praise. 

The  Colonel,  who  was  not  particularly  dis- 
pleased at  this  avowal  of  her  approbation  of  his 


212  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS, 

nephew,  philosophized  upon  the  wastefulness 
of  his  expenditure,  and  supported  by  the  lugu- 
brious anticipations  of  Mr.  Abberly,  for  whom 
Louisa  had  suddenly  conceived  the  most  violent 
dislike,  set  it  down  that  George  was  a  ruined 
man,  and  that  speedy  measures,  if  any,  must  be 
taken  for  his  redemption. 

Meanwhile  George  was  perfectly  enraptured 
with  his  fair  cousin's  air  and  manner ;  and  if  his 
uncle  had  not  purposely  taken  the  precaution  of 
using  a  hired  carriage  for  the  evening,  his  emis- 
saries, who  were  neither  few  nor  inactive,  would 
have  doubtlessly  discovered  the  name,  quality, 
and  residence  of  the  lovely  creature. 

"  I  could  swear,'1  said  George  to  Dyson, 
when  the  house  was  cleared  of  visitors,  "  that 
that  creature  of  whose  bright  eyes  I  only  caught 
a  glimpse  through  her  masque,  is  the " 

" The  most  abominable  dowdy  in  Lon- 
don," interrupted  Dyson.  "  Come,  George, 
rely  upon  it,  it  is  rather  too  late  in  life  and  in 
the  morning,  too,  for  you  and  me  to  sit  up  sigh- 
ing out  romances  in  real  life — this  interesting  af- 
fair of  beauty  in  an  eclipse  and  love  at  first 
sight,  or  rather  at  no  sight  at  all,  won't  do." 

"  What's  the  hour  ?"  said  George. 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  213 

ce  Past  six,"  answered  his  friend ;  "  so  go  : 
sleep  off  your  sorrow,  and  I  and  Wilson  will 
settle  the  order  of  the  day." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  George,  "  we  have  some- 
thing particular  for  to-day." 

"  Particular !"  answered  Dyson,  "  Indeed 
have  we — there's  the  Fives  Court  at  one— at  four 
the  dear  Countess — 'gad  how  she  did  eat,  this 
last  past  night  of  her  joyous  life." 

"  And  drink  too,"  interrupted  George. 

"  She  never  refuses  Roman  punch,"  observed 
Dyson,  "  I  never  saw  a  freerer  creature  in  that 
line  in  my  life:  to  be  sure  she  is  dreadfully 
under-rated;  her  cousin  they  say  is  a  tallow- 
chandler;  and,  upon  my  life,  I  never  sit  near 
her  but  I  fancy  I  smell  the  moulds." 

"  Hang  the  moulds!"  said  George:  "  she  is 
good-natured  and  /  like  her." 

"  The  good-nature  arises  from  her  good  set  of 
teeth,"  said  Dyson :  "  if  ever  you  want  laughers, 
George,  to  make  up  a  party,  study  the  ivory. 
Be  sure  your  guests  have  good  teeth,  and  they'll 
laugh  at  the  worst  story  of  a  dinner-going  wit, 
rather  than  not  shew  the  *  white  and  even.' 
Never  mind;  at  four  we  go  to  the  Countess,  at 
six  we  try  a  new  off-leader,  at  seven  I  have  a 


214  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

short  call  to  make  in  the  New  Road,  and  at 
eight  we  all  dine  here.  After  that,  trust  to 
chance :  by  the  way,  George,  before  you  go  to 
bed,  I'll  trouble  you  to  lend  me  a  couple  of 
hundred  pounds." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  George,  turning  to  his 
prime  minister,  who  was  waiting ;  "  Wilson,  let 
Mr.  Dyson  have  what  he  wants." 

"  Sir!"  exclaimed  Wilson. 

"  Don't  scold  me,  Mr.  Wilson,"  said  his  mas- 
ter :  "  My  friend  Dyson  must  not  be  refused ; 
so  good  night,  most  worthy  Arthur.  Saying 
which  the  master  of  the  house  retired  to  rest, 
escorted  by  his  body-servant,  Monsieur  Duval. 

"  Now,  Wilson,"  said  Mr.  Dyson,  "  the  money 
if  you  please,  at  your  earliest  convenience." 

"  Money,  sir  ?"  said  Wilson. 

"  Yes,  money,  Mr.  Wilson,"  repeated  the 
young  worthy  ;  "  why,  you  stare  as  if  I  asked 
you  to  pay  the  national  debt ,  I  only  want  you 
to  give  me  two  poor  hundreds  of  pounds." 

"  I  could  do  the  one  as  easily  as  the  other," 
answered  the  man. 

"Why,  you  keep  your  master's  purse,  Mr. 
Wilson  ?" 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  215 

"  I  do,  sir,"  said  Wilson,  "  but  in  these  days 
of  public  retrenchment,  I  quite  am  ashamed  of 
the  office,  for  it  is  a  sinecure." 

"  What,  low  water,  Mr.  Wilson?" 

"  Worse,  sir,"  answered  Wilson,  "  dry  as 
dust." 

"  That  information,"  said  Dyson,  "  comes  most 
inopportunely  just  now,  the  whole  of  my  estate 
lies  under  my  hat,  and  there  are  several  mort- 
gages even  on  that  property ;  and  as  to  borrow- 
ing, there  is  not  a  money-lender  from  A.  B. 
at  Knightsbridge,  to  X.  Y.  Z.  at  Whitecha- 
pel,  who  would  advance  me  six  pence :  how- 
ever, to-morrow  may  bring  us  something,  Mr. 
Wilson,  and  in  the  mean  time  I'll  follow  the 
example  of  my  excellent  host,  and  betake  myself 
to  my  slumbers." 

And  accordingly  Mr.  Dyson  departed  to  his 
chamber:  and  thus  it  really  was,  that  at  the 
moment  when  upwards  of  twelve  hundred  pounds 
had  been  expended  upon  the  idle  mummery 
of  an  unmeaning  masquerade,  the  donor  of  the 
fSte  neither  had  himself,  nor  could  command, 
two  hundred  pounds  upon  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Indeed,    Wilson,    who  was  a  most  admirable 


216  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

contriver — for  himself,  had  managed  so  ex- 
tremely well,  that  he  was  amongst  the  principal 
of  his  master's  creditors,  and  upon  the  know- 
ledge of  this  fact,  founded  that  independence  of 
manner,  conduct,  and  conversation,  which  were  so 
evident  to  all  the  by-standers,  whenever  any  dis- 
cussion took  place  between  him  and  his  master. 

Little,  however,  did  the  dormant  establish- 
ment of  Grosvenor  Street  anticipate  that,  which 
was  on  the  eve  of  occurring,  and  least  of  all  did 
George  suspect  that  his  house  and  fete  had  been 
visited  by  his  uncle,  whom,  under  the  tuition  of 
his  numerous  and  exemplary  friends,  he  had 
been  taught  for  some  time  past  to  consider  an 
"  old  fool,"  "  a  miser,"  an  antediluvian,  and  al- 
most a  madman. 

Soon  was  this  fact,  however,  to  burst  upon  his 
bewildered  senses;  and  the  second  succeeding 
day,  so  soon  as  old  Arden  had  completed  his  ar- 
rangements for  removing  from  Abberly's  happy 
domestic  circle,  in  the  equivocal  elegance  of 
Montague  Place,  into  an  hotel  nearer  his  ne- 
phew's house,  and  the  civilized  part  of  the 
town,  he  betook  himself  to  the  mansion  which 
he  had  previously  visited  en  masque.  He 
knocked  at  the  door,  which  was  opened  by  a 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  217 

half-slumbering,  half-surly  porter,  and  enquired 
if  Mr.  Arden  were  at  home  ? — "  No,"  was  the 
answer.  The  Colonel  pressed  the  enquiry  more 
earnestly,  and  Wilson,  who  happened  acciden- 
tally to  be  crossing  the  hall,  was  attracted  by 
the  sternness  of  the  demand,  and  immediately 
conjuring  the  old  gentleman  into  an  importu- 
nate creditor,  thought  it  his  bounden  duty  to 
bring  the  small  artillery  of  his  personal  impu- 
dence to  the  aid  of  the  heavy  ordnance  of  the 
fat  porter's  sulkiness. 

w  Who  do  you  want  ?"  said  Wilson. 
"  Mr.  George  Arden,  Sir,"  said  the  Colonel. 
"  He  is  not  at  home,"  answered  Wilson. 
u  Are  you  sure  ?" 
"  Quite." 

"  I  understood  from  Mr.  Abberly,1'  said  the 
Colonel,  "  that  I  should  find  him,  if  I  called 
at  this  time  of  the  day." 

The  word  Abberly  acted  like  a  charm  upon 
the  ear  of  Wilson,  who  associating  the  name  of 
his  master's  lawyer  with  some  disagreeable  pro- 
fessional business,  resolved  that  the  present  vi- 
sitor should  by  no  means  make  good  his  footing 
in  the  house. 

"  I  tell  you  he  is  out,  Sir,"  said  the  servant. 

VOL.  I.  l 


218  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  That's  strange,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  But  true,"  said  Wilson,  pertly  and  imper- 
tinently— "  What  's  your  business  with  him  ?" 

"  That,  Sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  as  I  take  it, 
is  no  business  of  yours." 

"  Yes,  Sir,  it  is,"  answered  Wilson,  "  if  I 
knew  who  you  were,  I  should  be  able,  perhaps, 
to  give  you  a  better  answer." 

"lam  only  Mr.  Arden's  uncle,  Sir,"  said  the 
old  gentleman,  "  and  I  wish  particularly  to  see 
my  nephew,  if  it  be  quite  convenient." 

"  My  master's  uncle,  Sir !" — exclaimed  the  as- 
tonished servant,  who  hardly  knew  in  the  hurry 
of  his  surprise,  whether  the  old  gentleman's 
appearance  was  to  be  hailed  as  a  favourable 
or  unfavourable  circumstance.  "  I  beg  you  ten 
thousand  pardons,  Sir, — my  master  is  at  home 
— of  course,  Sir, — this  way,  Sir, — this  way, — 
Stevens,  call  Duval,  send  him  up  to  me, — this 
way,  Sir;1' — and  thus,  endeavouring  by  a  mon- 
keylike activity  to  compensate  for  the  bearish  in- 
civility which  he  had  displayed  before  he  was  ap- 
prized of  the  quality  and  character  of  the  visitor, 
he  himself  ushered  the  Colonel  into  the  library, 
which,  stripped  of  the  gewgaw  finery  which  a 
night  or  two  before  had  concealed  its  valuable 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  219 

contents,  presented  to  the  eye  of  the  old  gentle- 
man, an  apartment  full  of  comfort  and  informa- 
tion. At  a  table,  reading  the  newspapers  of  the 
day,  sat  our  young  friend,  Dyson,  who  turned 
round  as  the  door  opened,  and  glancing  his  eye 
over  the  figure  of  the  veteran,  was  turning 
round  again  to  his  reading,  when  Wilson,  anxi- 
ous that  he,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  es- 
tablishment, should  find  favour  in  the  Colonel's 
eyes,  announced  the  said  Colonel  by  his  name, 
with  the  gratuitous  addition — "my  master's 
uncle,  Sir." 

In  an  instant  the  indolent  lounger  leaped 
from  his  seat,  the  inactive  reader  became  sud- 
denly animated,  and  placing  a  chair,  with  the 
most  assiduous  civility,  for  the  old  gentleman, 
congratulated  him  upon  his  long  wished-for  ar- 
rival in  the  house  of  his  nephew,  and  detailed 
at  length  the  affection  which  George  daily  and 
hourly  expressed  for  his  venerated  relation. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  you  please  me 
vastly  by  the  intelligence  which  you  give  me. 
I  had  almost  feared  that  George  had  forgotten 
me." 

"  There  is  no  chance  of  such  an  event,"  said 
Dyson  ;  "  I  know  his  heart,  Colonel — he  is  full 
l  2 


220  THE    MAN    OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

of  feeling  and  sentiment ;  he  is  all  kindness — all 
affection." 

"  I  presume,  Sir,  you  are  intimately  acquaint- 
ed with  him — have  I  the  honour  of  speaking  to 
Mr.  Dyson  ?" 

"  My  name  25  Dyson,"  said  the  young  man, 
somewhat  surprised  that  his  name  should  be 
known  to  the  Colonel,  "  and  I  have  the  va- 
nity," added  he,  "  to  think  that  George  has 
not  a  better  or  more  sincere  friend  than  myself, 
— we  are  the  Damon  and  Pythias  of  the  day, 
called  the  Tarantulas,  from  never  being  half  a 
distance  apart — do  you  propose  staying  with 
us  long,  Sir  ?" 

"  For  some  time,  I  think,"  answered  the  Co- 
lonel: "  I  find  that  I  can't  contrive  to  spend 
my  money  sufficiently  fast  in  the  country ;  my 
purse  has  a  plethora — a  little  bleeding  will  re- 
lieve it,  promote  circulation,  and  benefit  the 
constitution  generally." 

Dyson  was  at  once  astonished,  delighted,  and 
overcome  :  to  hear  a  man  upwards  of  seventy 
years  of  age  talk  in  this  strain — to  see  him 
making  a  visit  to  London  to  dissipate,  were  such 
new,  such  charming  circumstances,  that  Dyson 
instantly  fell  into  the  strain,  and  offered  him 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  221 

every  assistance  in  the  agreeable  pursuit  which 
had  brought  him  to  the  metropolis.  "  If  that  be 
the  case,  Sir,"  said  the  youngster,  "  I  flatter  my- 
self I  may  be  useful :  I  have  polished  the  pur- 
becks  ever  since  I  was  the  height  of  a  whip ;  am 
considered  a  kind  of  peripatetic  sporting  calen- 
dar ;  there  is  not  a  Peer  from  an  Irish  Baron 
upwards  that  I  don't  nod  to  ;  I  can  give  you  a 
daily  abstract  of  fashionable  scan-mag — and  give 
you  a  list  of  all  the  thorough-bred  running 
horses,  names  of  the  owners,  and  colours  of  the 
riders.,, 

"  Sir,"  answered  Arden,  bowing  profoundly, 
and  with  an  imposing  gravity,  "  I  am  infinitely 
obliged  to  you  for  the  liberal  offer  of  your  ser- 
vices,— nobody  can  deserve  my  confidence  more 
implicitly  than  the  friend  of  my  nephew." 

"  Where  the  deuce  is  he?"  said  Dyson:  "I'll 
run  and  hurry  his  grooming;  he  cannot  surely 
know  you  are  here;  besides,  my  quitting  you 
will  serve  a  double  purpose,  I  would  not  for  the 
world  break  in  upon  your  first  interview  ;  so  I 
will  trot  myself  off  for  the  moment,  and  be  back 
immediately,  and  assure  yourself,  Sir,  that  no 
person  can  rejoice  more  sincerely  in  the  addition 
which  you  will  make  to  our  little  circle  than 
myself." 


222  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

Away  flew  Dyson  to  his  friend's  room,  elated 
and  delighted  with  the  avowal  made  by  the  old 
gentleman,  of  his  intentions  with  regard  to  his 
mode  of  living,  which,  it  must  be  admitted,  sur- 
prised his  nephew,  as  much  as  it  had  astonished 
Dyson ;  still,  however,  George  hastened  his  toi- 
lette, and  as  speedily  as  possible  joined  his  ex- 
pecting uncle  in  the  library. 

The  meeting  was  cordial — full  of  affection — 
full  of  feeling.  Nature,  so  long  exiled  from  the 
heart  of  the  young  man  in  his  round  of  profli- 
gate pleasures,  seemed  doubly  powerful,  when 
admitted  for  a  moment  to  her  rightful  place. 
He  was  overcome  by  the  sight  of  the  dear  kind 
guardian  of  his  youthful  days,  and, — let  not  his 
worldly  friends  know  it — shed  tears  of  joy — of 
gratitude— of  affection,  as  his  old  uncle  clasped 
him  to  his  breast. 

"  Well,  George,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  you 
are  surprised— you  didn't  expect  me  here,  did 
your' 

"  Not  in  the  slightest  degree,"  said  George ; 
"  if  you  had  apprized  me  of  your  design,  I 
would  have  made  preparations,  and — " 

"  Hang  preparations  !"  interrupted  his  uncle, 
"  in  an  establishment  like  yours  what  prepara- 


THE   MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  223 

tions  are  necessary  ?  besides,  I  am  an  odd  fel- 
low— off  at  the  instant  the  fancy  strikes  me — 
your  last  letter  decided  me." 

"  Surely,  Sir,"  said  George,  "  the  expression 
of  my  distaste  for  any  matrimonial  connexion, 
has  not  irritated  you  ?" 

"  Irritate  !  no,  no,  boy  £*  said  the  Colonel ; 
"  you  are  perfectly  free  to  act  as  you  please, 
and  do  as  you  like ;  besides,  I  have  the  least  of 
all  possible  rights  to  blame  your  decision,  since 
I  never  was  married  myself." 

"  No,  but  then "  said  George. 

"  Ah  !  stop  there — stop  there,  boy,"  said  old 
Arden.  "  You  have  heard  the  story — don't 
recall  it.  I  should  have  married,  it  is  true — it 
was  to  happen  otherwise  !  She  is  in  Heaven, 
George,  and — but  that 's  nothing  to  the  present 
business — you  have  been  deceived;  I  was  robbed 
of  all  I  loved  by  the  hand  of  death — you  were 
deprived  of  your  betrothed  too — but  that  was 
by  a  friend." 

"  A  friend  !"  exclaimed  George,  indignantly, 
"  do  you  call  him  sl  friend  of  mine,  Sir  ?" 

"  You  did,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  Yes ;  once,"  answered  George. 

"  Umph,"   said   the  Colonel,   "  that 's  past : 


224  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

and  entre  nous,  Master  George,  I  don't  think 
you  ever  cared  very  much  for  my  Lady  Frances." 

"  I  assure  you " 

"  Never  mind— never  mind:  she's  gone  I 
say,  and  there 's  an  end :  and  you  do  not  mean 
to  trust  the  lottery  of  life  again;  that  wild 
chance  of  dipping  into  a  basket  of  snakes  for 
the  chance  of  catching  an  eel,  which,  even  when 
you  have  fairly  got  hold  of  it,  you  are  scarcely 
able  to  keep  from  slipping  through  your  fin- 
gers." 

%t  Why,  Sir,"  said  George,  "  I  hardly  ex- 
pected to  have  found  you  so  censorious  upon 
the  sex,  of  which  you  have  so  long  been  the 
avowed  and  powerful  champion." 

"  I  do  but  joke  to  please  the  ( present  temper 
of  your  mind,'  George,"  said  the  old  man;  "  let 
cynics  and  satirists  rail  at  marriage  till  their  scur- 
rilous tongues  ache,  they  will  never  talk  down 
the  advantages  of  female  influence  upon  society,, 
nor  the  blessings  of  that  union  of  hands  and 
hearts,  which  is,  in  real  truth,  the  source  of  all 
happiness  upon  earth  ;  but  I  neither  mean  to 
preach  nor  to  plague  you.     In  your  own  case,  I 
admit  all  your  arguments  against  a  new  con- 
nexion, and  shall  never  again  interfere  with  ad- 
vice or  proposals— so  let  us  change  the  subject3 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  225 

and  tell  me — I  see  by  the  newspapers  that  you 
are  leading  a  very  fashionable  life." 

"  As  to  the  newspapers,  Sir,"  said  George, 
"  you  know  they  are  no  guide.  I  gave  a  mas- 
querade here  the  other  night,  and  Dyson  and  I 
amused  ourselves  the  next  morning  by  sending 
accounts  of  it  to  the  papers,  taking  special  care 
to  enumerate  whole  shoals  of  fashionable  people 
who  never  were  over  my  threshold  in  their 
lives;  however,  barring  a  few  of  these  little 
venial  deceptions,  I  think  I  am  doing  the  thing 
handsomely." 

"  Your  studies  I  perceive  are  going  on  at 
the  same  time,"  said  old  Arden,  in  a  tone  not 
easily  to  be  mistaken,  "  the  preparation  for  par- 
liament— for  office.  You  remember  how  we 
used  to  talk  it  over  some  years  since  ?" 

"  My  studies,'''  said  George,  "  are  changed 
only  in  the  method  of  pursuing  them.  Formed 
to  live  in  the  world  and  with  men ;  instead  of 
wasting  my  time  in  dull  theories,  deep  reading, 
abstract  calculations,  or  abstruse  sciences,  which 
every  day  are  undergoing  the  most  rapid  and 
striking  alterations  and  improvements,  I  have 
devoted  myself  to  the  study  of  mankind.  I  have 
made  myself  master  of  all  that  is  going  on,  and  by 
this  system  of  observation  upon  things  in  general, 
l5 


226  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

have  enabled  myself  to  steer  clear  of  those  evils 
to  which  men  at  my  time  of  life  are  generally 
liable,  and  the  fruit  of  all  this  study  is  the  pos- 
session of  excellent  friends,  faithful  servants,  the 
best  acquaintance,  and  universal  popularity." 

"  How  happy  you  must  be,  George !"  said  his 
uncle.  "  I  believe  I  saw  one  of  your  intimate 
friends  here  just  now  ?" 

"  You  did,  Sir,"  answered  George,  "  Arthur 
Dyson,  an  excellent  fellow,  and  the  best  judge 
of  horse-flesh,  always  excepting  myself,  in  Eng- 
land." 

"  I  was  a  good  deal  stricken  by  the  ingenu- 
ousness and  candour  of  his  manner  and  conver- 
sation," replied  the  Colonel ;  "  it  is  only  in  Lon- 
don one  meets  with  such  unreserved  openness 
upon  a  first  acquaintance." 

"  London,  Sir,"  answered  George  "  is  the 
place  of  all  places  in  the  habitable  globe  to  inha- 
bit. The  '  Eternal  City'  is  good  for  a  temporary 
sejour — Paris,  with  its  operas  and  boulevards 
and  fetes  and  circles,  is  lively  and  agreeable  for 
a  season — but  London  is  the  place  to  settle  in ; 
the  people  are  all,  somehow  or  other,  so  actively 
employed,  and  pass  their  time  in  such  an  unin- 
terrupted round  of  marrying  and  dying,  without 


THE    MAM    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  227 

the  least  lassitude  or  the  smallest  touch  of  ennui : 
one  man  is  made — another  marred — no  distaste — 
every  thing  is  changing  and  new,  pleasures  vary 
with  the  seasons,  and  the  scythe  of  Time  itself 
is  hidden  in  flowers.-" 

"  A  mighty  pretty  picture,  George,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"  You  mean  I  hope  to  stay  amongst  us  ?" 
enquired  the  young  man. 

"  I  do,  indeed,"  said  his  uncle ;  "  I  mean  to 
take  a  house  in  London  immediately." 

"  Then,"  said  George,  "  Dyson  is  absolutely 
your  man,  he  has  such  taste — such  tact,  I'll 
call  him  into  council;  as  to  your  horses  and 
carriages  he  will  be  indispensable:  his  ad- 
vice, I  assure  you,  is  universally  asked  and  fol- 
lowed upon  such  points." 

"  He  lives  with  you,  does  he  not  ?"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"  He  is  good  enough,  Sir,"  said  George,  "  to 
make  this  his  home,  and  you  may  depend  upon 
it  I  will  take  care  you  shall  have  the  full  benefit 
of  his  experience  ;  besides  which,  my  man  Wil- 
son shall  attend  you.  He  will  save  you  all  care 
and   anxiety  about  servants,  and  will  manage 


228  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FBIEND& 

your  cellars  capitally,  and,  in  short,  do  every 
thing  for  you  without  the  least  trouble.'" 

"  I  accept  your  offer,  with  many  thanks,"  said 
the  Colonel ;  "  however,  I  must  leave  you  just 
now.  I  am  staying  at  Kirkham's  here  in  your 
neighbourhood,  and  if  you  can  send  your  man 
to  me  in  the  course  of  the  day  I  really  shall  feel 
obliged.'' 

It  is  needless  to  add  that  directions  were 
forthwith  issued  to  Wilson  to  attend  the  old 
gentleman  at  the  hotel,  to  which  he  returned 
fully  convinced  from  what  he  had  seen  of  a 
morning  in  Grosvenor  Street,  (in  addition  to 
his  experience  of  an  evening  passed  there  be- 
fore,) that  his  unhappy  nephew,  full  of  the  con- 
fidence of  inexperience  and  the  pride  of  youth- 
ful wisdom,  was  in  fact  the  veriest  dupe  ima- 
ginable. 

My  readers  by  this  time  may,  perhaps,  an- 
ticipate the  nature  of  the  old  gentleman's  plan, 
which,  however,  remained  a  profound  secret  as 
far  as  Louisa  was  concerned.  She,  poor  girl ! 
was  temporarily  consigned  to  the  care  of 
Mrs.  Abberly,  who  was  to  chaperone  her  about 
town  to  all  the  sights,  but  alas  !  to  nothing 
else:  for  Mrs.  Abberly  moved  in  that  class  of 
semi-fashion^  which  consorts  amicably  and  conti- 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  229 

nuously  within  itself,  but  never  exceeds  a  cer- 
tain circle.  The  Abberlys  had,  besides  their 
coachman,  but  one  male  servant,  who  waited  at 
dinner  in  a  livery,  sometimes  assisted  by  the  said 
eoachman  fresh  from  the  stables,  smelling  like 
Astley's  Amphitheatre  of  Arts.  And  they  kept 
a  blue  coach,  with  red  wheels  and  yellow  cyphers 
painted  on  the  pannels,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  job 
horses,  and  Mr.  Abberly  used  to  think  it  quite 
spiry  to  wear  a  white  hat  and  sit  upon  the 
coach-box  and  drive  them  himself  on  Sundays, 
up  and  down  the  Wellington-road  in  Hyde 
Park.  My  reader  will  easily  perceive  that  no- 
tions of  London  formed  in  such  company  must 
be  perfectly  erroneous,  and  that  our  poor  belle 
from  the  country  stood  but  little  chance  of  un- 
derstanding the  real  merits  of  a  metropolitan 
life  under  such  tuition. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  sight  of  George 
in  the  midst  of  his  amiable  dissipation  had  re- 
kindled the  flame  which  had  long  lain  dormant 
in  her  heart,  and  the  principal  interest  excited 
by  the  kind  and  attentive  proceedings  of  Mrs. 
Abberly  towards  her  young  and  interesting 
charge,  arose  from  the  constant  hope  she  che- 
rished of  meeting  in  some  of  their  rambles  the 
object   of  her   undeviating  thoughts.     Things, 


230  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

however,  were  not  to  happen  quite  so  fortu- 
nately ;  and  time  and  patience  Were  both  re- 
quired for  the  great  work  her  uncle  had  in  hand. 

According  to  his  nephew's  promise,  the  Colo- 
nel found  Wilson  at  the  hotel  waiting  for  him  at 
four  o'clock  :  and  he  made  his  advances  to  the 
old  gentleman,  in  a  manner  so  totally  different 
from  that  in  which  he  repulsed  him  at  his  mas- 
ter's door  in  the  morning,  that  Arden  could 
hardly  believe  himself  speaking  to  the  same 
man. 

Wilson  bowed  subserviently  and  said  that  he 
waited  upon  the  Colonel  by  his  master's  orders. 

"  Yes,  Sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  I  am  in  want 
of  servants  ;  my  nephew  tells  me  you  can  re- 
commend me  some.'" 

■?  I  flatter  myself,  Sir,  that  you  will  not  be 
dissatisfied  with  my  exertions  upon  that  head — 
how  many  and  of  what  description,  Sir,"  asked 
Wilson,  "  do  you  want  ? — three  or  four  ?" 

"  Three  or  four,  Sir  !"  said  the  Colonel, — 
"  six  or  seven  livery  servants  at  least !" 

"  Six  or  seven  !"  repeated  Wilson,  "  dear  me, 
Sir,  you  will  require  a  large  house." 

"  A  very  large  one  indeed,  Sir,"  said  the  Co- 
lonel; "  perhaps  you  could  make  enquiries  about 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  231 

this  neighbourhood  for  one,  I  prefer  this  part  of 
London." 

"  Why,  I  certainly  do  know  of  one  to  be  let 
at  this  very  moment,"  said  Wilson,  "  with  four 
drawing-rooms  en  suite,  large  Verandah,  and 
conservatory,  overlooking  the  Park.  It  was 
splendidly  fitted  up  for  an  eminent  merchant 
who  failed." 

"  Poor  man !"  sighed  the  Colonel,  "  and 
obliged  to  quit  it  ?" 

"  Not  exactly,  Sir :  after  his  failure,"  said 
Wilson,  "  he  found  it  not  quite  large  enough, 
so  he  moved  to  a  better,  and  therefore  this  one 
is  to  be  had." 

"  Provided  it  be  sufficiently  spacious  for  me, 
and  capable  of  accommodating  my  establishment, 
I'll  take  it,"  said  the  old  gentleman;  "  so  pray 
make  the  earliest  possible  enquiries  about  it. 
And  now,  Sir,  about  liveries  for  these  men- 
servants  of  whom  we  were  speaking ;  how  can 
we  manage  that  speedily  ?" 

w  We  can  manage  very  well,  Sir,"  answered 
Wilson,  "  until  Nugee  can  get  yours  made  up; 
we  have  always  a  few  spare  suits,  either  for  the 
hired  waiters  at  our  large  parties,  or  for  the  offi- 
cers who  happen  to  be  staying  in  the  house." 


232  THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

"  Officers !  Sir,"  exclaimed  the  Colonel,  red- 
dening with  anger.  "  Officers,  Sir,  wear  li- 
veries ?" 

"  Yes,  Sir,  sheriff's  officers  I  mean ;  who 
sometimes  are  left  in  possession,  when  any  man 
in  a  hurry  runs  us  up  to  execution. " 

"  And  has  it  really  come  to  this!"  thought 
the  old  gentleman.  "  Well,  Sir,"  said  he,  "  I 
shall  leave  all  these  matters  to  your  good  ma* 
nagement ;  but  there  is  one  servant  about  whom 
I  must  of  course  be  more  particular.  I  mean 
my — I  hardly  know  what  to  call  him." 

"  House-steward,  perhaps,"  suggested  Wilson. 

"  Hardly  that,"  said  the  Colonel  ;  "  indeed 
I  know  nothing  more  suitable,  at  present,  than 
to  call  him  a  Wilson.  I  want,  in  short,  just 
such  a  servant  as  you  appear  to  be  to  my  ne- 
phew, filling  as  it  were  a  combination  of  offices 
in  one." 

"  What  the  wags  call  a  fac~totum,  Sir,"  said 
Wilson,  jocularly. 

"  I  don't  know  a  wag  when  I  see  one,  Sir,* 
said  the  Colonel  gravely ;  "  but  I  perceive  you 
understand  precisely  what  I  mean." 

"  Why,  Sir,  to  find  exactly  such  a  servant  as 
myself,  it  may  seem  vain  in  me  to  say  it,"  said 
Wilson,  affecting  a  downcast  look  of  modesty, 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  233 

"  but  I  really  do  7iot,  at  this  moment,  know 
where  to  look  for  a  person  qualified  as  /  am." 

"  Well,  then,  Mr.  Wilson,  suppose  you  were 
yourself  to  come  to  me,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  I,  Sir,*  exclaimed  the  astonished  and  well- 
pleased  servant,  "I,  Sir,  leave  my  master — 
such  a  master  as  mine  is— a  master  who  has  al- 
ways been  so  kind — so  generous — so  liberal !" 

Wilson  had  gotten  thus  far  in  his  speech, 
when  he  suddenly  recollected  that  George  had 
nearly  finished  his  career  of  dissipation,  while 
his  uncle  was  only  just  beginning  his :  his  affec- 
tion and  gratitude  to  the  young  man  were  just 
on  the  point  of  yielding,  when  the  Colonel  de- 
cided the  affair  by  abruptly  asking  him  what 
wages  George  gave  him  ? 

"  Why,  the  wages,  Sir,  are  not  much,"  said 
the  doubting  menial — "  it  is  my  attachment 
makes  the  place  valuable  to  me.  I — get  but 
ninety  guineas  a-year  nominally — an  admitted 
picking  of  perquisites,  and  a  bottle  of  claret  per 
diem — taken  at  discretion,  Sir." 

"  Come  to  me,  my  excellent  fellow,"  said  the 
Colonel,  exultingly,  "  and  I  '11  double  the  whole 
— two  hundred  a-year,  and  two  bottles  of  claret, 
there !" 

"  Sir,   you   are   extremely   liberal,"    replied 


234  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FBIENDS. 

Wilson,  having  at  the  moment  determined  upon 
closing  the  bargain,  "but  there  is  really  nobody 
in  the  world,  except  his  uncle,  Sir,  to  whom  I 
would  go  from  Mr.  George ;  but  as  I  conclude 
you  will  always  live  together,  I  shall  be  proud 
to  accept  your  offer." 

"  We  shall  not  live  together,  Mr.  Wilson," 
said  Arden,  "  but  I  see  the  bargain  is  struck, 
and  you  belong  to  me.  Leave  the  rest  of  the 
matter  to  my  guidance.  Ill  arrange  about 
your  getting  away  from  George  immediately ; 
because,  as  I  have  told  you,  I  shall  tell  him,  I 
want  a  confidential  person  about  me,  and  he  is 
not  equally  at  a  loss." 

"  You  may  trust  me,  Sir,"  said  Wilson,  bow- 
ing profoundly. 

"  I  know  it,  Sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  and  in 
the  first  instance,  and  in  the  outset  of  our  ca- 
reer, Mr.  Wilson,  your  discretion  must  be  spe- 
cially called  into  play.  I  have  arrived,  as  you 
perceive,  at  a  certain  time  of  life — no  compli- 
ments, Mr.  Wilson  ;  I  am  seventy-two. — I  have 
brought  a  young  and  interesting  female  to  Lon- 
don with  me." 

"  Oh  !"  said  the  servant,  archly;  "I  see, 
Sir,  and  the  lady  is  to  live  in  our  house." 

"  Yes,  she  is,"  answered  the  old  man,  "  and 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  235 

to  do  the  honours  of  our  house  too  ;  and  I  de- 
sire that  you,  and  all  those  who  may  be  put  in 
authority  under  you,  will  obey  her  orders,  and 
pay  her  every  respect," 

"  Your  commands  shall  be  obeyed  to  the 
letter,  Sir,"  said  Wilson. 

"  My  nephew  has  never  seen  this  young 
person,"  continued  the  Colonel,  "  to-morrow 
I  shall  introduce  them  to  each  other;  in  the 
mean  time,  proceed  you  with  the  engaging  of 
servants,  give  me  directions  by  which  I  may 
find  the  house  you  speak  of,  and  above  all,  say 
nothing  to  your  late  master,  of  what  has  passed 
between  us  touching  this  last  subject.  Recollect 
you  are  my  servant,  now,  Mr.  Wilson — you 
will,  therefore,  return  here  by  seven,  and  when 
I  come  in  to  dress  for  dinner  I  hope  to  find 
you  with  at  least  half  your  commissions  exe- 
cuted; but  as  to  the  young  lady — prudence, 
Mr.  Wilson,  you  understand." 

And  so  they  parted,  the  Colonel  keeping  his 
finger  laid  closely  to  his  lip  as  he  left  the  room? 
and  the  servant  absolutely  enraptured  with  the 
bright  prospect  before  him.  The  impression  made 
upon  his  mind  was,  nevertheless,  that  the  Colonel 
was  mad — a  feeling  considerably  strengthened 
by  the  discovery  that  a  young,  and  as  he  had 


236  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

just  heard,  interesting  girl,  was  the  companion 
of  his  journey  to  town.  His  first  step  was  to  re- 
turn to  Grosvenor  Street,  where  he  found  his 
ci-devant  master  waiting  for  him." 

"  You  have  staid  long,  Wilson,"  said  George, 
somewhat  more  sharply  than  usual. 

"  I  have  been  arranging  matters  with  the  old 
man,"  answered  Wilson,   "  and  I  declare,  Sir, 
he  is  the  best  creature  alive." 
"  I  told  you  so,"  said  George. 
"  But  I  have  a  piece  of  news  to  announce, 
Sir,  at  which,  I  hope,  you  won't  be   angry," 
said  Wilson :  "  I  must  quit  your  service." 
"  Quit  my  service !"  exclaimed  George. 
"  Yes,  I  have  been  solicited,  nay  forced,  by 
your  amiable  uncle,  to  superintend  his  house- 
hold and  establishment." 

"  Are  you  serious,  Sir  ?"  asked  his  master. 
"  Grave  as  a  judge,  Sir,"  replied  Wilson. 
"  What !  do  you  really  mean  to  say,  Wilson, 
after  having  been  treated  by  me  as  you  have 
been,  that  upon  the  first  blush  of  a  better  offer 
you  will  leave  me,  and  all  my  affairs  at  sixes 
and  sevens — me,  to  whom  you  owe  every  thing?" 
"  Except  the  trifling  balance  which  you  hap- 
pen to  owe  me,   Sir,"  said  Wilson,  in  a  tone 
which  in  a  moment  irritated  George  to  the  very 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  237 

heart's  core,  and  which  in  another  similar  space 
of  time  would,  in  all  probability,  have  brought 
Mr.  Wilson  horizontally  on  the  floor,  had  he  not 
adroitly  watched  the  coming  storm,  and  saved 
himself  from  its  effects  by  suddenly  disclaiming 
every  thing  like  the  paltry  love  of  gain  in  his 
proposed  change  of  service,  and  adding,  in  a 
subdued  tone,  "  but  what  does  money  signify — 
it  was  your  interest  I  had  at  heart  in  accepting 
the  situation,  Sir.    I  saw,  in  an  instant,  how  im- 
portant it  was  that  you  should  have  a  man  de- 
voted to  your  cause  actually  established  in  your 
uncle's  house;    nothing   but  that  consideration 
would  have  induced  me  to  listen  to  the  pro- 
posal ;  besides,  Sir,  I  have  news  of  a  different 
nature,  which  will  startle  you,  and  at  the  same 
time  afford  an  additional  proof  of  my  prudence." 
"  Nothing,  I  think,  will  surprise    me   now, 
Wilson,"  said  George  ;  "  I  have  seen  and  see 
such  things  every  day  passing  before  my  eyes, 
that  I  have  learned  never  to  be  astonished  at 
any  thing.     I  should  not   even  wonder  if  my 
uncle  proposed  keeping  a  mistress." 

"  'Gad,  Sir,"  said  Wilson,  forgetting,  or  ra- 
ther violating  all  his  promises  of  secresy  and 
prudence,  "youVe  hit  the  very  thing — there's 
a  chere  arnie  in  the  question." 


238  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Ridiculous  !"  exclaimed  George. 

"  True,  as  gospel,"  replied  the  servant. 

"  Who  is  she,  what  is  she  ?"  enquired  the 
nephew. 

"  There,  Sir,  I  must  at  present  be  secret : 
first,  because  I  have  promised  your  uncle  pro- 
found silence  on  the  subject ;  and  secondly,  be- 
cause, as  yet,  I  do  not  happen  to  know  any 
thing  about  it.  But  as  the  old  gentleman  says 
she  is  young,  interesting,  and  amiable,  I  con- 
clude that  she  will  turn  out  to  be  the  orphan 
daughter  of  some  country  clergyman,  with  nine 
children,  who  died  a  victim  to  circumstances, 
and  left  his  family  to  '  the  care  of  the  charitable 
and  humane."' " 

"  This  is,  indeed,  news,"  said  George,  more 
thoughtfully  than  usual ;  convinced  in  his  own 
mind,  not  only  that  his  uncle  would  be  com- 
pletely fooled  during  his  life-time,  but  that  his 
property  would  be  diverted  from  the  course 
into  which  he  always  expected  it  to  flow  ;  and 
devolve,  perhaps,  with  his  name,  upon  some  art- 
ful young  woman,  who  would  go  so  far  as  to  de- 
base herself  by  marrying  age,  disease,  and  de- 
crepitude, for  the  sake  of  money,  the  wanton 
expenditure  of  which,  she  would  anxiously  anti- 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  239 

cipate,  when  the  wretched  old  victim  of  her  de- 
pravity and  duplicity,  should  lie  mouldering  in 
his  grave.  Indeed,  George's  gratification  at 
hearing  this  bit  of  intelligence  did  not  quite 
keep  pace  with  his  surprise. 

Different  was  the  effect  produced  upon  his  ex- 
cellent friend,  Mr.  Bertie  Noel,  who  saw  in  the 
information,  promise  of  future  flirtations  and  in- 
trigue ;  the  moment  the  news  reached  his  ears  he 
congratulated  George  upon  the  acquisition  of  an 
uncle  in  London,  who  proposed  not  only  to  fur- 
nish houses,  dinners,  carriages,  and  horses  for 
the  use  of  his  friends,  but  even  a  young  and 
beautiful  mistress  to  superintend  the  expenditure. 

George,  whose  faults  were  of  the  head,  most 
certainly  had  not  thought  of  refining  upon 
his  uncle's  apparent  indiscretion,  or  of  making 
him,  even  in  thought,  the  dupe  of  his  artifice, 
and  the  sufferer  by  his  libertinism :  it  was  true, 
he  saw  the  folly  of  his  uncle's  keeping  a  mistress 
at  his  time  of  life,  but  he  did  not  look  deeply 
and  coolly  into  the  subject,  with  a  view  of  grati- 
fying his  own  evil  propensities  at  his  uncle's  ex- 
pense. Bertie  Noel,  however,  felt  no  delicacy 
upon  that  head,  nor  would  his  feelings  have 
been  hurt  had  the  Colonel  been  his  uncle  instead 


240  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

of  his  friend's,  under  similar  circumstances ;  as 
it  was,  there  were  no  ties  to  be  broken,  no  faith 
to  be  violated,  and  since  Bertie  Noel  was  a  loose 
philosopher  who  would  venture  to  justify  the 
crime  of  seducing  his  friend's  wife,  by  asserting 
the  impracticability  of  seducing  the  wife  of  his 
enemy,  it  seemed  probable  that  the  chere  amie 
of  the  veteran  Colonel  (as  Mr.  Wilson  so  know- 
ingly termed  her,)  was  in  a  fair  way  of  being 
speedily  besieged. 

Meanwhile   Mr.  Arthur  Dyson,  whose  pas- 
sions and  feelings  were,  as  I  have  before  ob- 
served,  absorbed    in  the  pursuits  of  the    turf 
and  the  gaming  table,  was  assiduously  employed 
in  looking  at  horses  for  the  old  gentleman's  stud, 
and  sundry  meetings  were  held  with  "  legs'*  of 
various  classes  and  denominations,  as  to  what 
cattle  it  would  be  most  advantageous  to  put 
into  the  Colonel's  stable.     Tall,  shewy  horses, 
with  sand-cracks ;  Bolters,  and  kickers,  and  all 
the  unmanageable  and  unsaleable  brutes  which 
had  been  cast  from  Milton's  and  Elmore's  were 
speedily  collected  and  brushed  up  in  breaks  for 
the   inspection  of  the  Colonel,  who  affected  a 
placid  indifference  to  the  points  of  the  animals, 
as  they  were  paraded  before  him,  and  an  utter 
ignorance  of  the  subject  altogether,  which  last 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  241 

piece  of  conduct  principally  astonished  his  ne- 
phew, who  knew  that  he  had  been  an  excellent 
judge  of  a  horse,  and  only  attributed  the  strik- 
ing difference  which  he  perceived  in  the  old 
gentleman's  manner,  to  some  defect  in  his  sight, 
which,  having  chosen  to  play  the  rake,  he 
did  not  care  to  acknowledge.  Still,  however, 
his  mind's  eye  appeared  to  be  suffering  under 
some  disorder  as  difficult  to  account  for,  as 
his  bodily  blindness.  His  quick,  shrewd  cha- 
racter appeared  to  George  to  have  undergone 
a  change  fully  as  remarkable  as  his  conduct ; 
and,  in  short,  from  the  extreme  easiness  of  his 
disposition,  and  the  proportionate  activity  of 
Dyson,  the  young  man  entertained  serious  ap- 
prehensions that  his  uncle  was  likely  to  be 
seriously  imposed  upon. 

Wilson's  assiduities  with  respect  to  servants 
were  unbounded ;  characters,  testimonials  of 
long  service  and  unsullied  integrity,  from  all  the 
first  noblemen  in  London,  in  behalf  of  applicants 
for  places,  covered  the  Colonel's  table.  Dyson 
undertook  the  choice  of  coachmen  and  grooms ; 
Wilson  himself  selected  for  Miss  (as  he  called 
Louisa)  a  pair  of  superfine  ladies''  footmen, 
with  long  legs  and  broad  shoulders,  and  fixed 

VOL.  I.  M 


242  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

upon  a  person  whom  he  had  himself  known  in- 
timately, for  many  years,  as  excellently  qualified 
for  the  office  of  butler. 

George  gave  his  uncle  a  splendid  dinner,  in 
the  evening  of  this  very  day;  and  introduced 
him  to  many  of  his  numerous  friends,  amongst 
whom  Mr.  Bertie  Noel  was  by  no  means  back- 
ward in  distinguishing  himself  by  the  most  par- 
ticular attentions  and  civilities  to  the  old  gentle- 
man, whose  total  silence  on  the  subject  of  his 
female  compagnon  de  voyage  confirmed  all  the 
suspicions  of  the  young  gentlemen,  as  to  the  cha- 
racter and  condition  of  the  lady.  Towards  the 
close  of  the  evening  cards  were  mentioned,  as  if 
accidentally,  and  preparation  made  for  playing, 
the  Colonel  expressed  a  well-feigned  astonish- 
ment at  the  appearance  of  the  table,  and  affect- 
ed to  believe  that  play  in  private  houses,  what- 
ever might  be  done  in  clubs,  was  rarely  to  be 
met  with.  George  explained  away  this  solecism 
in  a  manner,  which,  although  he  thought  he  was 
doing  the  thing  very  dexterously,  convinced  his 
uncle  that  the  gentlemen  who  usually  formed  the 
parties  in  Grosvenor  Street,  were  of  a  descrip- 
tion not  likely,  if  their  play  had  been  confined  to 
clubs,  to  play  at   all,  being  in  his  estimation 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  243 

persons  who  would  inevitably  have  been  dosed 
with  black  pills,  had  they  ventured  to  try  the 
higher  flights  of  fashionable  profligacy. 

In  short,  the  Colonel  saw  enough,  and  saw 
too  that  to  the  flagrant  vices  and  barefaced 
impositions  of  his  pretended  friends,  George  was 
owl-blind;  and  on  his  way  homeward  to  the 
hotel,  which  he  was  to  quit  the  next  day  for  his 
splendidly-furnished  house,  he  revolved  in  his 
mind  the  course  of  proceeding  most  likely  to 
open  his  eyes. 

In  the  morning  the  old  gentleman  received 
the  visits  of  sundry  tradesmen,  to  whom  he  had 
given  orders  for  different  articles  of  dress ;  and 
Wilson,  who  was  fully  installed  in  his  high  of- 
fice, presented  for  his  approbation,  Monsieur 
Rissolle,  "  without  exception  the  best  cook  in 
the  United  Kingdom." 

The  particular  profession  of  this  person,  the 
Colonel,  who  understood  very  little  French,  was 
for  some  time  puzzled  to  find  out ;  he  heard  a 
vocabulary  of  dishes  enumerated  with  grace  and 
fluency,  he  saw  a  remarkably  gentlemanly  look- 
ing man,  his  well-tied  neckcloth,  his  well-trim- 
med whiskers,  his  white  kid  gloves,  his  glossy 
hat,  his  massive  chain  encircling  his  neck,  and 
m  2 


244  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

protecting  a  repeating  Breguer,  all  pronouncing 
the  man  of  ton ;  and  when  he  came  really  to 
comprehend  that  the  sweet-scented,  ring-fingered 
gentleman  before  him,  was  willing  to  dress  a 
dinner  on  trial,  for  the  purpose  of  displaying 
his  skill,  he  was  thunderstruck. 

"  Do  I  mistake  V  said  the  Colonel :  "  I  really 
beg  pardon — it  is  fifty-eight  years  since  I 
learned  French — am  I  speaking  to —  a  —  (and 
he  hardly  dared  to  pronounce  the  word) — 
cook?" 

"  Oui,  Monsieur,"  said  M.  Rissolle ;  "  I  be- 
lieve I  have  de  first  reputation  in  de  profession : 
I  live  four  years  wiz  de  Marqui  de  Chester, 
and  je  me  flatte  dat,  if  I  had  not  turn  him 
off  last  months,  I  should  have  superintend  his 
cuisine  at  dis  moment." 

"  Oh,  you  discharged  the  Marquis,  Sir  ?"  said 
the  Colonel. 

"  Yes,  mon  Colonel,  I  discharge  him ;  be- 
cause he  cast  affront  upon  me,  insupportable  to 
an  artist  of  sentiment." 

"  Artist  !"  mentally  ejaculated  the  Colonel. 

"  Mon  Colonel,  de  Marqui  had  de  mauvais 
gout  one  day,  when  he  had  large  partie  to  dine, 
to  put  salt  into  his  soup,  before  all  his  com- 
pagnie." 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRTENDS.  245 

"  Indeed,,,  said  Arden ;  "  and,  may  I  ask,  is 
that  considered  a  crime,  Sir,  in  your  code  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  Code,"  said  the  man,  "  Morue  ? 
— dat  is  salt  enough  without." 

"  I  don't  mean  that,  Sir,"  said  the  Colonel ; 
"  I  ask,  is  it  a  crime  for  a  gentleman  to  put  salt 
into  his  soup  ?" 

"  Not  a  crime,  mon  Colonel,"  said  Rissolle, 
"  but  it  would  be  de  ruin  of  me,  as  cook,  should 
it  be  known  to  the  world, — so  I  told  his  Lord- 
ship I  must  leave  him;  that  de  butler  had  said, 
dat  he  saw  his  Lordship  put  de  salt  into  de 
soup,  which  was  to  proclaim  to  the  universe  dat 
I  did  not  know  de  propre  quantite  of  salt  re- 
quired to  season  my  soup." 

"  And  you  left  his  Lordship  for  thatT'  en- 
quired the  astonished  country  gentleman. 

"  Oui,  Sir,  his  Lordship  gave  me  excellent 
character ;  I  go  afterward  to  live  wid  my  Lord 
Trefoil,  very  good,  respectable  man,  my  Lord, 
of  good  family,  and  very  honest  man,  I  believe — 
but  de  king,  one  day,  made  him  his  governeur 
in  Ireland,  and  I  found  I  could  not  live  in  dat 
devil  Dublin." 

"  No ! " 

"  No,  mon  Colonel — it   is   fine   city,"   said 


246  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

Rissolle — "  good  place — but  dere  is  no  Italian 
Opera." 

"  How  shocking!"  said  Arden,  "  and  you 
left  his  Excellency  on  that  account  ?" 

"  Oui,  mon  Colonel." 

"  Why,  his  Excellency  managed  to  live  there 
without  an  Italian  Opera,"  said  Arden. 

"  Yes,  mon  Colonel,  c'est  vrai — but  I  pre- 
sume he  did  not  know  dere  was  none  when  he 
took  de  place — I  have  de  character  from  my 
Lord,  to  state  why  I  leave  him." 

Saying  which,  he  produced  a  written  charac- 
ter from  Lord  Trefoil,  who  being  a  joker,  as 
well  as  a  minister,  had  actually  stated  the  fact 
related  by  the  unconscious  turnspit,  as  the 
reason  for  their  separation. 

"  And  pray,  Sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  what 
wages  do  you  expect  ?" 

"  Wages  !  Je  n'entend  pas,  mon  Colonel," 
answered  Rissolle ;  "  do  you  mean  de  stipend — 
de  salarie  ?" 

"  As  you  please,"  said  Arden. 

"  My  Lor  Trefoil,"  said  Rissolle,  "  give  to 
me  seven  hundred  pounds  a-year,  my  wine,  and 
horse  and  tilbury,  with  small  tigre  for  him." 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  247 

"  Small  what,  Sir?"  exclaimed  the  astonished 
Colonel. 

"  Tigre,"  said  Rissolle,  w  little  man-boy,  to 
hold  de  horse." 

"  Ah!"  said  Arden,  "  seven  hundred  pounds 
a-year,  and  a  tiger  !" 

"  Exclusive  of  de  patisserie,  mon  Colonel,  I 
never  touch  dat  departement,  but  I  have  de  ho- 
nour to  recommend  Jenkin,  my  sister's  hus- 
band, for  the  patisserie,  at  five  hundred  pound, 
and  his  wine.  Oh  Jenkin  is  dog  ship  at  dat,  mon 
Colonel." 

"  Oh !  exclusive  of  pastry,"  said  the  Colonel, 
emphatically. 

"  Oui,  mon  Colonel,"  said  Rissolle. 

"  Which  is  to  be  contrived  for  five  hundred 
pounds  per  annum,  additional.  Why,  Sir,  the 
rector  of  my  parish,  a  clergyman,  and  a  gentle- 
man, with  an  amiable  wife  and  seven  children, 
has  but  half  the  sum  to  live  upon." 

"  Dat  is  hard,"  said  Rissolle,  shrugging  up 
his  shoulders. 

"  Hard — it  is  hard,  Sir,"  said  Arden  ;  "  and 
yet  you  will  hear  the  men  who  pay  their  cooks 
seven  hundred  a-year  for  dressing  dinners,  get 
up  in  their  places  in  Parliament,  declaim  against 


248  THE    MAN    OF   MANY   FBIENDS, 

the  exorbitant  wealth  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, and  tell  the  people  that  our  clergy  are 
overpaid." 

"  Poor  clergie  !  mon  Colonel,"  said  the  man, 
"  I  pity  your  clergie;  but  den,  you  don't  re- 
member de  science  and  experience  dat  it  require 
to  make  an  omelette  souffle." 

"  The  Devil  take  your  omelette,  Sir,"  said 
Arden  ;  "  do  you  mean  seriously  and  gravely  to 
ask  me  seven  hundred  pounds  a-year  for  your 
services  ?" 

"  Oui,  vraiment,  mon  Colonel,"  said  Rissolle, 
at  the  same  moment  gracefully  taking  snuff 
from  a  superb  gold  box. 

"  Why  then,  damn  it,  Sir,  I  can't  stand  this 
any  longer,"  cried  the  irritated  novice  in  the 
fashionable  world;  "  seven  hundred  pounds  ! 
make  it  guineas,  Sir,  and  I  '11  be  your  cook  for 
the  rest  of  my  life." 

The  noise  of  this  annunciation,  the  sudden 
leap  taken  by  Monsieur  Rissolle  to  avoid  some- 
thing more  serious  than  words,  which  he  antici- 
pated from  the  irate  Colonel,  brought  Wilson 
into  the  room,  who,  equally  terrified  with  his 
Gallic  friend  at  the  symptoms  of  violent  anger 
which  his  master's  countenance  displayed,  stood 
wondering  at  the  animation  of  the  scene ;  when 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  249 

Arden,  whose  rage  at  the  nonchalance  of  Ris9olle, 
at  first  impeded  his  speech,  uttered  with  an  em- 
phasis not  to  be  misunderstood 

"  Good  morning — Sir — Seven  hundred- „V 

What  the  rest  of  this  address  might  have 
been  it  is  impossible  to  say,  for  before  it  was 
concluded  Rissolle  had  left  the  apartment, 
and  Wilson  closed  the  door.— To  this  faithful 
friend  the  astonished  artist  communicated  all 
that  had  passed,  and  before  his  return  to  his 
master's  room,  the  old  gentleman  had  bitterly 
repented  giving  way  to  his  natural  indignation 
at  the  wanton  extravagance  of  the  age,  when 
for  his  purpose  a  placid  acquiescence  in  all  its 
follies  was  what  he  ought  to  have  exhibited. 
Having,  therefore,  cooled  himself,  and  taken  a 
resolution  to  bear  any  thing  of  a  similar  nature 
that  might  happen,  with  patience  and  philoso- 
phy, he  rang  the  bell,  and  enquired  if  the 
tradesmen  whom  he  had  appointed  were  ar- 
rived, it  being  his  full  determination  to  make 
his  personal  appearance  correspond  as  much  as 
possible  with  the  prevailing  taste  of  the  day. 

His  shoemaker,  of  course  selected  by  Wilson, 
a  celebrated  professor,  first  entered  the  apart- 
ment :  to  him  the  Colonel  exhibited  his  feet  in 
m  5 


250  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    Fill  ENDS. 

the  purgatory  of  a  pair  of  pumps,  into  which, 
with  the  assistance  of  his  own  man,  and  a  shoe- 
ing-horn,  the  old  gentleman  had  compressed  his 
proper  proportions. 

"  These  shoes,  Sir,  are  too  tight  by  half," 
said  Arden. 

"  Excuse  me,  Sir,  they  seem  to  fit  capitally,1' 
replied  the  shoemaker,  with  an  assurance  equal 
to  that  of  him  who  fitted  my  Lord  Foppington 
in  the  play. 

"  They  don't  look  well  about  the  heel,"  add- 
ed the  Colonel. 

"  Why,  Sir,"  said  the  man,  with  a  half  sup- 
pressed smile,  "  we  only  profess  to  make  shoes  ; 
Nature  does  the  rest." 

"  Umph  !"  said  Arden,  resolved  upon  keep- 
ing his  temper,  yet  perfectly  understanding  the 
insinuation, — "  All  I  know  is,  Sir,  they  pinch 
me  confoundedly  when  I  walk." 

"  Walk  !"  exclaimed  the  shoemaker,  with  an 
expression  of  astonishment :  "  Oh  ! — why, — Sir. 
we  serve  very  few  gentlemen  who  ivalk  in  dress 
shoes, — but  we  will  see  and  stretch  them,  Sir." 

And  as  he  was  withdrawing  from  the  audience 
the  hatter  made  his  appearance,  who  descanted 
iecture-wise  upon  the  shape  and  style  of  the  ar- 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  251 

tide  in  which  he  specially  dealt,  and  ran 
through  a  vocabulary  of  names  of  living  men, 
as  illustrative  of  his  various  propositions  upon 
the  important  subject ;  till  Arden,  who  selected 
that,  which  while  fashionable,  appeared  best 
suited  to  his  age,  turned  with  a  hope  of  relief 
to  his  newly  appointed  tailor,  who,  like  his  pro- 
posed cook,  was  of  course  a  foreigner ;  it  being 
an  established  axiom  in  this  country  that  its 
natives  are  incompetent  to  the  dressing  either 
of  dinners  or  dandies. 

The  hatter,  who  was  a  tall,  smirking,  simper- 
ing, blue-eyed  brute,  with  curly  hair  powdered, 
stood  in  a  distant  window  waiting  the  Jiat  of  his 
opulent  customer,  while  the  tailor  proceeded  to 
try  on  such  a  coat  as  the  old  gentleman  had 
never  been  in  company  with  before.  It  was, 
however,  pronounced  to  fit  "  ci  mejveille"  and 
wanted  nothing  but  the  least  possible  alteration 
in  the  shoulders  to  be  perfect ;  in  order  that  it 
might  receive  which,  its  author  handed  it  to 
Wilson,  and  asked  him  to  desire  a  servant  to 
put  it  into  his  carriage  which  was  at  the  door. 

The  sound  of  carriage  struck  upon  the  Colo- 
nel's ear,  and  he  was  very  near  exploding  again, 
when  he  calmed  himself,  and  recollecting  that 


252  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

the  tailor  to  whom  his  present  decorator  was 
the  successor,  had  purchased  a  German  barony 
and  a  collection  of  pictures,  (for  which  his  skill 
in  fine-drawings  had,  as  the  wags  tell  us,  given 
him  a  taste,)  merely  said  to  the  man  interroga- 
tively : — 

a  Have  you  your  carriage  here  ?" 

"  Yes,  Sir,"  answered  the  tailor,  "  we  keep 
carriages  to  save  time, — de  fashions  change  so 
fast  dat  if  ve  did  not  catch  dem  flying,  trade 
would  be  at  an  end." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  was  telling  the  Co- 
lonel," said  the  smirking  hatter,  "  the  hat  is  at 
this  moment  threatened  with  an  alteration." 

The  Colonel  stood  aghast  at  the  pert  fa- 
miliarity of  these  persons,  but  moderated  his 
anger  when  he  recollected  that  in  this  free  and 
happy  country,  in  which  talent  and  industry 
have  raised  some  of  its  brightest  ornaments  from 
obscurity  and  indigence  to  rank  and  honours, 
the  character  of  a  tradesman,  however  injured 
by  the  contemptible  airs  of  a  few  impudent  pre- 
tenders, is  at  once  honourable  and  respectable. 

From  the  fever  of  these  audiences  the  old 
gentleman  speedily  recovered,  and  proceeded, 
together   with   his   new   and   excellent   servant 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  253 

Wilson  to  his  fashionable  residence,  which  he 
intended  to  enter  upon  that  evening.  To  this 
elegant  rus  in  urbe,  the  very  paradise  of  Park 
Lane,  Louisa  was  also  to  be  removed,  and 
the  following  day  was  fixed  in  the  old  gentle- 
man's mind  for  the  introduction  of  Louisa  to 
his  nephew  and  his  friends  in  her  new  capacity, 
and  under  an  assumed  name.  What  his  object 
in  this  might  have  been  I  cannot  at  present  pre- 
tend to  say,  but  certain  it  is  that  Nature  had 
bounteously  favoured  his  scheme  whatever  it 
might  be,  for  never  perhaps  in  the  course  of 
"  growing  up"  had  any  human  being  so  com- 
pletely changed  in  appearance  as  Louisa  Neville  ; 
so  much  so,  indeed,  that  a  faithful  likeness  of  her, 
taken  when  she  was  seven  years  old,  was  regularly 
exhibited  by  her  mother  to  her  acquaintance,  not 
as  any  resemblance  of  her  child  at  nineteen,  but 
as  a  perfect  curiosity  from  its  entire  dissimi- 
larity to  her  present  features,  the  tone  of  her 
complexion,  and  even  the  colour  of  her  hair. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  when  her  uncle 
opened  so  much  of  his  plan  to  her  as  developed 
the  necessity  of  her  forthwith  changing  her  name, 
she  was  excessively  embarrassed,  perhaps  from 
not  exactly  understanding  what  he  meant,  or 


254  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

how  the  delicate  alteration  was  to  be  effected. 
Mentioning  to  a  young  lady  any  thing  touching 
a  change  of  her  name  has  in  it  something  pe- 
culiarly piqu a nte,  and  therefore  should  be  ma- 
naged with  proportionate  discretion:  certain  it 
is,  that  when  her  uncle  began  the  conversation 
upon  the  subject,  Louisa  seemed  to  misunder- 
stand the  process  which  her  uncle  eventually  pro- 
posed. However,  as  he  more  than  hinted  at  his 
ulterior  object  in  the  little  deception,  she  waived 
any  trifling  objection  which  she  might  otherwise 
have  been  disposed  to  make,  and  quietly  sub- 
mitted to  be  called  Miss  Anstruther,  with  all 
the  complacency  and  good-nature  usually  ob- 
servable in  young  ladies  of  amiable  dispositions, 
whenever  they  are  requested  to  do  any  thing 
which  happens  to  be  particularly  agreeable  to 
themselves. 

During  the  progress  of  all  the  old  gentleman's 
proceedings,  the  young  men  were  completely 
satisfied  of  the  truth  and  justice  of  Wilson's 
surmises  and  information,  touching  the  character 
in  which  Miss  Anstruther  was  to  assume  the 
command  of  the  new  establishment;  and  while 
George,  who  highly  respected  his  uncle,  mar- 
velled at  so  unequivocal  a  display  of  bad  taste, 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  255 

and,  as  he  thought,  folly,  he  internally  felt  a  regret 
that  the  Colonel's  total  silence  upon  the  subject 
of  his  female  companion,  precluded  the  oppor- 
tunity of  speaking  to  him  concerning  the  state 
of  his  affairs;  so  early  did  the  indiscretion  of 
the  old  man  strike  the  young  one,  and  so  ready 
are  human  beings  to  perceive  faults  in  others, 
to  which,  if  their  own,  they  are  stone-blind. 

At  length,  however,  the  denouement  ap- 
proached. The  Colonel  took  possession  of  his 
new  residence ;  a  first-rate  cook,  at  a  somewhat 
more  moderate  stipend  than  M.  Rissolle,  was 
duly  installed ;  the  hall  was  well  garnished  out 
with  long  and  lazy  menials ;  and  the  black  chair 
filled  by  a  porter  of  prodigious  size  and  impor- 
tance ;  the  family  livery  glittered  in  rich  gold 
lace ;  and  the  broad  scarlet  front  of  the  janitor 
glared  with  a  brilliancy  sufficient  to  drive  from 
the  lofty  door  all  those  who  had  not  a  perfect 
right  to  enter. 

To  this  splendidly  decorated  residence,  the 
mild  and  gentle  Louisa,  under  her  new  name, 
was  conveyed;  and  the  next  morning,  as  his 
uncle  anticipated,  George  and  his  friends  began 
to  make  their  appearance  in  Park  Lane.  As  for 
poor  Mrs.  Abberly  (who,  like  her  husband,  had 


256  THE   MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

an  ill  opinion  of  aliases)  she  could  not  in  the 
smallest  degree  comprehend  the  utility  of  the 
scheme,  nor  its  tendency.  She  was  quite  sure, 
she  said,  she  never  should  be  able  to  keep  the 
secret,  because,  as  for  calling  Louisa,  Miss  An- 
struther ;  Neville  would  pop  out  in  spite  of  all 
her  precautions;  but  above  all  she  bitterly 
lamented  the  supposed  necessity  for  such  con- 
trivances, as  of  course  she  never  could  take  the 
dear  children  to  Park  Lane,  while  the  decep- 
tion was  to  be  kept  up. 

This  last  calamity  she  mentioned  before  Co- 
lonel Arden,  who  seemed  all  at  once  better 
pleased  than  ever  with  his  plan  of  operation, 
and  suddenly  relieved  of  every  lingering  scruple 
with  respect  to  the  alteration  of  his  niece's 
appellation. 

The  eventful  moment  at  length  arrived,  and 
George,  accompanied  by  Bertie  Noel,  proceeded 
to  the  Colonel's  house.  As  they  were  ushered 
through  the  hall  to  the  old  gentleman's  room, 
the  young  men  were  actually  startled  at  the 
extent  and  magnificence  of  what  lawyers  call 
the  appurts  of  the  establishment:  every  thing 
was  of  the  first  class,  and  the  expression  of 
Wilson's  countenance,  whom  they  happened  to 


THE   MAN   OF   MANY    FRIENDS.  257 

encounter  on  the  staircase,  tacitly  proclaimed 
the  super-excellence  of  the  arrangements  in 
every  department. 

"  George,  my  boy,"  said  old  Arden,  as  they 
entered  the  room,  "  I  am  delighted  to  bid  you 
welcome  to  my  London  residence;  Mr.  Noel, 
you  do  me  honour — be  seated,  and  tell  me  can- 
didly what  you  think  of  Mr.  Wilson's  expedi- 
tion and  management.,, 

"  He  has  been  more  successful  than  usual, 
Sir,"  said  George,  thinking  at  the  same  time 
that  nothing  could  be  more  ridiculous  than  the 
exercise  of  his  ingenuity  in  the  present  pursuit. 

"  Why,  Sir,"  said  Noel,  "  you  should  not 
solitarily  enjoy  this  paradise — a  house  without  a 
woman  is  like — " 

"  My  nephew's  house,"  interrupted  Arden — 
"  'a  fane  without  a  deity,  a  body  without  a 
soul.'" 

"  With  these  opinions,  Sir,"  said  Noel,  "  I 
wonder  you  consent  to  enjoy  these  sweets 
alone." 

Old  Arden,  who  in  a  moment  perceived  that 
Wilson  had  betrayed  his  confidence  and  his 
secret,  and  that  his  very  ingenious  young  friend 
was  now  assiduously  employing  his  worldly  skill 


258  THE    MAN   OF   MANY    FRIENDS. 

in  what,  with  considerable  force,  but  with  at  least 
equal  vulgarity,  is  called  "pumping  "  resolved 
to  give  him  a  favourable  opportunity  of  dis- 
playing his  dexterity  in  that  polite  and  gentle- 
manly art. 

"  Why,  now,  Mr.  Noel,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"  you  would  not  persuade  a  quiet,  country 
gentleman,  on  the  shady  side  of  seventy,  to  run 
the  risk  of  uniting  his  fortunes  with  those  of  a 
female  partner  ?  Don't  you  think  the  finger  of 
scorn  would  be  pointed  at  him  in  society,  that 
he  would  become  the  dupe  of  his  worldly  friends, 
and  that  his  young  wife  would — " 

"  Oh,  wife !"  said  Noel,  "  I  didn't  exactly 
mean  a  wife,  Colonel." 

George,  who  had  frequently  before  heard,  with 
pleasure,  Noel  broach  the  most  libertine  opinions 
and  the  most  profligate  sentiments,  felt  his  cheek 
burn  and  his  heart  palpitate,  as  his  animated 
friend  developed  his  views  of  the  subject  to  his 
venerated  uncle.  It  was  not  that  it  trenched  too 
closely  upon  what  they  both  believed,  at  the 
moment,  to  be  the  truth ;  it  was  not  that  he  was 
not  as  anxious  as  Noel  could  be  to  ascertain  the 
precise  fact  as  to  whom  the  fair  incognita  was ; 
but  it  was,  that  he  felt  in  the  society  of  that 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  259 

man,  to  whom  for  years  he  had  looked  up,  with 
respect  and  veneration,  and  especially  to  him- 
self, such  a  suggestion  should  not  have  been 
made,  nor  such  a  laxity  of  principle  evinced. 
How  often  has  the  same  feeling  affected  us  all, 
and  how  sensitively  alive  is  a  man  in  one 
circle  to  the  faults  and  ignorances  of  his  asso- 
ciates, which  do  not  shew  themselves  when  he 
meets  them  in  another;  and  how  frequent  and 
distressing  to  a  delicate  mind  are  those  exhibi- 
tions of  bad  taste,  in  which  the  companion  of 
convivial  hours,  the  partner  in  the  chace,  or  the 
chum  at  college,  brings  to  the  common  stock  of 
general  conversation,  in  serious  hours  and  more 
refined  associations,  the  "  quips  and  cranks,' 
nay  even  the  jests  and  coarsenesses,  which, 
though  excusable  perhaps  when  the  wine  was  in 
and  the  wit  out,  cannot  fail  to  violate  the  usually 
observed  rules  of  every-day  life,  and  even 
offend  the  feelings  and  habits  of  better  regu- 
lated society. 

Noel  had  never  before  appeared  to  so  little 
advantage  in  the  eyes  of  George  :  who  was  agi- 
tated and  annoyed  ;  his  fingers  grew  cold,  and 
his  cheeks  warm  as  the  conversation  proceed- 
ed ;  but  it  must  be  confessed  that  he  recovered 


260  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

himself  considerably  when  he  found  his  uncle 
not  only  joining  in  the  waggery  of  his  young 
friend,  but  evidently  preparing  his  hearers  for 
the  disclosure  they  so  much  desired. 

"  Were  you  ever  suspected  for  a  conjuror, 
Mr.  Noel  ?"  said  the  Colonel — a  question  which 
George  at  first  apprehended  was  the  com- 
mencement of  an  attack  upon  his  elegant 
friend. 

"  Not  exactly,  Sir,"  answered  Noel,  a  good 
deal  confused,  and  thinking  that  he  had  gone 
rather  too  far. 

"  Because,  Sir,"  said  Old  Arden,  "  unless 
you  have  the  gift  of  divination,  you  certainly 
are  blessed  with  a  great  felicity  in  coincidences. 
I  conclude  I  may  trust  you;  my  nephew  I  know 
I  can  rely  upon,  not  to  bruit  my  indiscretion 
about  the  town.  The  truth  is,  I — have  a  young 
lady  at  this  moment  living  under  my  pro- 
tection." 

i(  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  Noel :  —  "a  Lady  I* 
cried  George, — and  they  both  affected  to  be 
wonderfully  surprised. 

"  As  to  the  character  she  fills  in  my  estab- 
lishment,  you  must  be  charitable,"   continued 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  261 

Arden,  "  the  world  is  censorious  I  know,  but 
when  you  hear  any  odd  reports  about  us,  put 
my  age,  habits,  and  infirmities,  into  one  scale, 
and  the  calumny  into  the  other,  and  I  shall  be 
perfectly  satisfied." 

"  But,  Sir,"  said  George,  "  are  you  really 
serious  ?" 

"  Entirely  so,"  replied  his  uncle;  "  and  you 
shall  see  my  protegee  immediately ;  but  before 
the  introduction  takes  place,  let  me  put  your 
minds  at  rest  as  to  the  nature  of  our  connexion — 
she  is  the  orphan  daughter  of  a  deceased  clergy- 
man.,1 

At  this  annunciation,  Noel,  who  had  heard 
Wilson,  a  short  time  before,  designate  her  ironi- 
cally in  precisely  the  same  words,  exchanged  a 
look  with  George,  and  an  involuntary  smile 
played  upon  his  fine  countenance.  Old  Arden 
perceived  this,  and  feared  that  Wilson's  infor- 
mation had  by  some  means  or  other  been  more 
ample  than  he  desired,  and  that  the  real  state 
of  the  case  was  known  to  his  nephew. 

"  Am  I  saying  any  thing  very  ridiculous  ?" 
said  Colonel  Arden,  "  I  see  it  makes  you  smile, 
Mr.  Noel:' 


262  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  No,  upon  my  honour,  Sir,"  replied  Noel, 
"  I  was  smiling  only  at  another  curious  coinci- 
dence." 

u  Well  then,"  continued  the  Colonel,  "  in 
introducing  my  fair  young  friend  to  your  ac- 
quaintance, I  shall  only  say,  that  I  feel  for  her 
the  purest  and  warmest  paternal  affection,  and 
I  think  I  need  not  add  another  word  to  ensure 
your  respect  and  esteem  for  her ;  perhaps  it  is 
not  wholly  unnecessary,  and  certainly  as  well, 
that  I  should  inform  you,  (for  I  assure  you  she 
is  not  without  her  attractions,)  that  she  is  under 
a  matrimonial  engagement  with  a  most  exemplary 
man,  a  near  arid  dear  friend  of  my  own.'1 

"  Oh  !"  said  Noel,  "  there  is  no  need  of  warn- 
ing off  George,  Sir ;  he  has  absolutely  forsworn 
the  sex,  as  to  any  e  proceedings  in  the  way  of 
marriage.'' " 

"  I  only  wish  to  be  candid  at  the  outset,'" 
said  Arden ;  "let  us  understand  each  other, 
and  it  will  save  any  future  disagreements  in  the 
fanuly." 

"  As  for  me"  said  George,  "  if  my  dear 
uncle  were  to  shew  me  a  second  Venus,  I 
would " 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  263 

"  Make  no  protestations,  George,11  said  the 
Colonel,  "  the  heart  and  passions  of  a  man  are 
not  at  his  own  disposal — it  would  be  uncharita- 
ble to  suppose  they  were.  There  is  only  the  in- 
vincible power  of  woman  over  his  fate  and  des- 
tiny left  as  a  set-off  against  the  innumerable 
acts  of  criminality  which  fill  the  records  of  our 
courts,  and  the  annals  of  gallantry:  take  my  ad- 
vice, and  reserve  to  yourself  the  full  benefit  of 
the  palliation.  However,  having  told  you  the 
exact  state  of  the  circumstances  under  which 
Miss  Anstruther  resides  with  me  here,  we  will, 
if  you  please,  go  and  visit  her.  We  shall  find 
her,  I  dare  say,  in  her  boudoir." 

The  Colonel  rose  and  led  the  way— the  name 
of  Anstruther  was  canvassed  by  the  young  men 
in  a  whisper  during  their  progress,  and  George, 
who  in  his  own  mind  was  perfectly  satisfied  of 
the  propriety  of  the  young  lady,  maugre  all  the 
hints  and  insinuations  of  his  friend,  could  only 
marvel  why  this  new  adoption  had  so  completely 
usurped  the  place  of  Louisa  Neville,  remem- 
bered by  him,  it  is  true,  only  as  the  idol  of  his 
uncle,  and  about  whom  he  carefully  abstained 
from  making  any  enquiries,  lest  he  should  there- 


264  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

by  lead  the  old  gentleman  to  imagine  that  she 
retained  the  smallest  possible  share  of  his  inte- 
rest or  affection. 

The  Colonel  having  himself  ushered  his 
guests  into  one  of  the  drawing-rooms,  pro- 
ceeded to  Louisa's  "  snuggery,'"  and  having 
allowed  a  certain  period  of  time  to  elapse,  that 
the  young  men  might  discuss  the  subject 
at  their  leisure,  and  his  fair  charge  prepare 
herself  for  the  meeting  which,  to  her,  was  full 
of  interest  and  difficulty,  returned  with  her  to 
the  room,  where  he  found  them  occupied  in 
admiring  the  prevailing  good  taste  and  elegance 
of  the  decorations  and  furniture  ;  but  soon  were 
they  doomed  to  withdraw  their  eyes  from  the  in- 
numerable bits  of  virtH  which  surrounded  them, 
to  feast  them  upon  a  piece  of  Nature's  handy- 
work,  far,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  art.  George 
was  dazzled  in  an  instant ;  and  when  the  Colonel 
presented  his  beautiful  charge  as  Miss  Anstru- 
ther,  he  watched  his  nephew's  countenance  to 
ascertain  whether  there  was  any  thing  like  re- 
cognition in  its  expression :  but  no,  the  laughing, 
romping,  fair-haired  "  Loui"  of  his  youth,  had 
so  completely  merged  in  the  dark -locked,  graceful 
creature  then  before  him,  that  as  he  gazed  upon 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  265 

her  lovely  form  and  features,  admiration  undi- 
vided and  unqualified,  possessed  him. 

Noel  was  stricken  too,  but  in  a  totally  differ- 
ent manner :  he  perceived  the  violent  agitation 
which  Louisa  laboured  to  conceal,  and  set  it 
down  for  acting,  somewhat  over-done.  George 
was  abashed  by  her  beauty,  but  Bertie  de- 
cided upon  the  line  of  conduct  to  be  adopted 
in  the  course  of  his  future  acquaintance  with 
her. 

Louisa  was,  as  I  have  said,  extremely  flurried, 
and  George  was  in  no  condition  to  commence 
the  conversation,  although  Noel  had  the  good 
taste,  under  all  the  circumstances,  to  leave  the 
lead  to  him. 

Any  observation  upon  the  weather,  the  usual 
ice-breaker  upon  such  occasions  in  low  life,  being 
wholly  out  of  the  question,  George  asked  for  in- 
formation on  a  point  whereupon  he  was  perfectly 
well  informed  already. 

"  You  have  not  been  long  in  town,  Miss 
Anstruther  ?"  said  he. 

"  Only  three  or  four  days,"  was  the  answer ; 
and  to  her,  George  seemed  but  little  altered 
either  in  countenance  or  manner  since  they 
parted. 

VOL.  I.  N 


266  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Have  you  been  much  in  London  ?"  asked 
the  young  man. 

"  I  never  was  here  till  now,"  replied  Louisa ; 
and  at  that  moment  the  old  gentleman  en- 
gaged Noel  upon  some  popular  topic,  for  which 
Louisa  felt  extremely  grateful,  and  Noel  wished 
him  at  Jericho. 

"  It  is  extremely  strange,"  said  George ;  and 
he  turned  round,  as  if  about  to  appeal  to  Noel 
for  a  corroboration  of  what  he  was  about  to  say 
— but  in  vain — he  was  occupied.  "  But  I  could 
have  fancied  that  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
you,  or  rather  hearing  your  voice,  a  few  even- 
ings since,  at  my  house." 

"  I  suspect  you  were  deceived,"  said  Miss 
Neville ;  "I  have  not  left  your  uncle  for  some 
time." 

"  It  is  very  singular, — I  might  be  mis- 
taken," continued  young  Arden,  "  but  the  tone 
is  strikingly  similar;"  —  and  the  conversation 
resumed  its  generality.  Still,  however,  the 
voice  of  Miss  Anstruther  forcibly  reminded 
him  of  his  visitor  in  the  blue  domino ;  and 
although  the  style  of  dress,  her  figure,  and 
constrained  manner  at  present,  the  subdued  in- 
tonation of  her  voice,  and  fifty  other  adventi- 
tious circumstances  combined  to  puzzle  him,  he 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  267 

felt  by  no  means  displeased  at  finding  his  uncle's 
protegSe  so  closely  resembling,  in  the  only  point 
upon  which  he  knew  her,  the  girl  of  whom  he 
had  been  dreaming  and  raving  since  their  brief 
interview ;  and  though  certainly  not  yet  shaken 
in  his  antipathy  towards  marriage,  he  rested  his 
eyes  upon  the  downy  cheek  and  coral  lips  of 
Louisa  with  a  gaze  as  intense  as  that  of  Noel's, 
which  was  also  riveted  on  the  same  bewitching 
object ;  but  as  different  in  its  character  as  light 
from  darkness. 

Noel,  although  professedly  a  lady-killer,  had 
dissipated  much  of  his  time  amongst  such  fe- 
males as  he  could  not  associate  with  in  general 
society;  and,  as  is  not  unusual  with  men  so  cir- 
cumstanced, had  formed  his  opinion  of  the  sex 
upon  the  specimens  which  had  chiefly  come  un- 
der his  own  personal  inspection.  Hence  he  had 
taught  himself  to  believe,  that  women  were  uni- 
versally made  up  of  trickery  and  deception.-— 
Dignity  of  character  and  innate  virtue  were 
not  to  be  found  in  his  vocabulary  of  female  at- 
tributes; in  every  naivete  of  innocence  he  saw 
the  allurements  of  vice ;  from  every  artless  word 
he  implied  some  hidden  meaning  ;  and  thus  be- 
ing, as  he  fancied,  skilled  in  the  female  characu 
N  2 


268  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

ter,  devoted  himself  only  to  that,  which  he 
considered  the  object  of  their  lives  and  conduct, 
and  treated  them  as  food  for  amusement,  and 
objects  of  gratification,  rather  than  as  they 
really  are,  the  sources  of  social  happiness  and 
refined  delight. 

In  ten  minutes  George  was  convinced  that 
there  never  was  a  more  charming,  interesting, 
lovely  girl  than  Miss  Anstruther;  and  Noel 
had  decided  that,  after  "  ten  days'  run,"  he 
should  make  the  prize  his  own;  and  this  an- 
ticipation was  founded  upon  the  certainty,  in 
his  own  mind,  that  even  a  man  of  seventy-two 
and  a  girl  of  nineteen  could  not  live  in  the  same 
house,  without  the  occurrence  of  something, 
which  other  people  would  call  criminal,  but 
which  he  deemed  perfectly  natural ;  and  as  for 
all  the  evidences  of  her  modesty  and  timidity, 
he  considered  them  only  as  so  many  blinds  and 
baits,  to  deceive  the  old  man  and  tempt  the 
young  ones. 

The  introduction  of  these  youthful  heroes  to 
Miss  Anstruther,  was  the  signal  for  mischief, 

"Treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils." 

In  all  societies,  under  all  circumstances,  let  the 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  269 

evident  causes  be  what  they  may,  we  may  be 
pretty  certain  that  woman  is  the  primum  mobile. 
Cynics  tell  us,  that  money  is  the  grand  mover 
of  all  things,  and,  as  I  have  somewhere  before 
noticed,  say,  that  if  we  look  round  the  world 
and  search  into  its  ways  and  transactions  as  mi- 
nutely as  we  can,  we  shall  find  six-and-eight- 
pence  at  the  bottom  of  every  thought  and  every 
action  of  mankind.  This  may  be  partly  true 
with  respect  to  money,  but  it  is  ten  thousand 
times  oftener  true  as  relates  to  women ;  and  in 
the  particular  case  of  which  I  am  now  treating, 
the  ascendency  of  the  latter  over  the  former 
was  destined  to  be  proved. 

The  conversation,  which,  for  a  first  interview, 
was  sustained  with  something  like  spirit,  season- 
ed by  anecdotes  from  the  Colonel,  by  the  gen- 
tle suggestions  and  soft  assiduities  of  George, 
and  by  the  malicious  representations  of  passing- 
events  given  with  infinite  skill  and  smartness  by 
Mr.  Bertie  Noel,  continued  for  some  time,  until, 
a  servant  announcing  Miss  Anstruther,s  car- 
riage, she  left  the  conclave,  and  was  followed 
by  the  Colonel,  who  made  his  excuses  to  his 
visitors  for  his  temporary  absence,  and  pur- 
posely left  them  again  together  to  the  freedom 


2/0  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

of  discussion  upon  what  they  had  seen  and 
heard. 

"  Well,11  said  Noel,  as  they  left  the  room3 
"  what  do  you  think  of  that  V 

"  Why,  I  think  she  is  an  angel!11  said 
George. 

"  She  is  a  much  better  thing,11  replied  Noel ; 
"  she  is  a  devilish  pretty  girl,  full  of  all  the  lit- 
tle trickeries  of  her  trade,  and  looking  as  de- 
mure as  a  vestal,  but  it  won't  do,  my  dear  fel- 
low. I  know  a  woman  in  a  twinkling — I  can  tell 
you  the  meaning  of  all  those  looks  and  sighs, 
and  throbbings  and  bobbings — mark  me,  Mas- 
ter George — she  will  soon  be  one  of  us.11 

"  For  shame  !  Noel,11  said  George ;  "  I  never 
saw  so  much  inartificiality  in  my  life.11 

"  Umph,11  said  Noel,  "  what  the  lakers  call  a 
virid  mind,  I  suppose.11 

"  And  I  cannot  help  thinking  she  was  the 
blue  domino,  at  my  masquerade,11  continued 
George. 

"  That,11  said  Noel,  "  seems  extremely  pro- 
bable, indeed;  but  I  should  not  adduce  the 
fact  of  her  having  been  the  blue  domino  at 
your  masquerade  in  support  of  her  vernal  fresh- 
ness.     Now  take   my   advice,   Arden;    let   us 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  271 

have  none  of  your  infernal  sentiment  about  the 
girl — you  have  had  enough  of  one  jilt,  and  a 
happy  escape  you  had — do  not  run  your  head 
into  the  collar  again,  without  the  smallest  reason : 
besides,  over  and  above  all  things,  you  know  she 
belongs  to  your  uncle. " 

"  Merely  as  his  charge — his  ward — his — * 

"  His  ward  J — yes,""  said  Noel,  "  and  I  should 
by  no  means  dislike  to  ease  him  of  the  trust 
upon  his  own  terms." 

"  Didn't  you  hear,*1  said  Arden,  "  that  she 
is  engaged  to  be  married ." 

"  Well,  then,  if  she  be,"  said  Noel,  "  that  is 
the  strongest  possible  reason  why  you  should 
have  nothing  to  say  to  her.  You  would  not  rob 
the  poor  gentleman,  who  is  your  uncle's  special 
favourite,  of  his  delicate  bride.  You  will  please 
to  remember  that  you  did  not,  by  any  means, 
relish  the  experiment,  when  it  was  tried  upon 
yourself,  Master  George/1 

"  I  never  rejoiced  in  that  event  so  completely 
as  now,"  exclaimed  George,  with  an  unusual 
degree  of  animation. 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Noel,  "  then  you  are  going 
the  way  of  the  world,  and  have  made  up  your 
mind   to   fall   in  love   with   Miss   Anstruther, 


272  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FEIfiNDS. 

merely  because  you  have  been  regularly  warned 
off;  there  can  be  no  other  reason.'" 

"  Look  at  her,  Bertie,"  said  George,  almost 
romantically. 

"  So  I  did,"  said  Bertie,  "  the  whole  time 
she  was  sitting  here,  and  I  repeat  I  never  saw 
a  nicer  young  creature,  to  be  ward  to  oneV 
uncle,  or  governess  to  one's  sister,  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life." 

"  For  shame,  for  shame  t"  cried  Arden,  "  how 
can  you  talk  in  this  manner ." 

"  I  speak  as  I  feel,  George,"  said  Bertie ;  "  as 
I  have  told  you  over  and  over  again,  you  lost 
Lady  Frances  by  your  exquisite  sensibility  and 
over-refinement ;  that  talking  in  a  corner,  how- 
ever pleasant  in  company,  won't  carry  your 
point." 

"  Hang  Lady  Frances  !"  said  George  pee- 
vishly. 

"  Oh  fie  !  George,"  said  Noel,  "  if  the  ladies 
were  to  hear  that  their  devoted  cavaliere  servente, 
the  sentimental  Mr.  Arden,  could  talk  of  hang- 
ing the  accomplished  daughter  of  an  English 
Earl,  to  whom  he  had  plighted  his  faith,  as  if 
she  were  a  small  puppy  dog,  their  fans  would 
be  spread  in  battle  array  against  him." 

"  Do   not   vex  me,"    said  George ;   and   he 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FltlENDS.  273 

thought  at  the  moment  that  he  had  never  in 
his  life  seen  any  human  being  so  thoroughly 
and  detestably  disagreeable,  as  his  bosom 
friend,  Bertie. 

At  this  juncture,  it  must  be  confessed,  some- 
thing like  irritation  manifested  itself  in  the 
conduct  of  Mr.  George  Arden,  the  increase  of 
which  to  any  serious  height,  however,  was  sud- 
denly and  presently  checked  by  the  return  of 
his  uncle;  who,  perfectly  aware  from  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  young  men,  as  well  indeed  as 
from  the  loud  tone  of  voice  in  which  the  last 
injunction  of  his  nephew  had  been  given,  that 
an  animated  conversation  had  taken  place,  im- 
mediately proposed  an  excursion  to  look  at 
one  of  his  new  carriages,  which  was  just  re- 
ceiving the  finishing  touch  from  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Leader. 

"lam  sorry,  Sir,"  said  Bertie,  "  that  I  can- 
not have  the  pleasure  of  accompanying  you.'" 

"  We  shall  see  you  at  dinner,  perhaps,"  said 
the  Colonel,  (strange  to  say),  to  the  great  mor- 
tification of  George. 

"  I  shall  be  too  happy,"  replied  Noel;   "  in- 
deed nothing  but  business  would  take  me  from 
your  exploring  party  to  the  coachmaker's." 
n  5 


274  THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

"  Business  !"  said  old  Arden ;  "  you  are  not 
much  of  a  man  of  business,  I  suppose,  Mr, 
Bertie.  If  there 's  a  lady  in  the  case,  I  '11  give 
you  up  without  a  murmur ;  if  not,  come  with 
us — you  can  have  no  business  elsewhere  to  in- 
terfere with  the  advantages  I  should  derive  from 
your  opinion  upon  my  new  hammer-cloth." 

George  could  have  said,  and  it  would  not 
have  displeased  him  in  the  then  temper  of  his 
mind  to  say,  that  Bertie  had  no  business  where 
he  was. 

"  I  positively  must  go  into  the  City,'"  said 
Bertie ;  who,  as  he  found  the  Colonel's  anxiety 
to  have  his  opinion  apparently  increase,  propor- 
tionably  increased  his  affirmations  of  the  impos- 
sibility of  giving  it. 

"  The  City  !"  said  Arden ;  "  what,  to  ballot  at 
the  India  House,  or  transfer  Stock  at  the  Bank?" 

"  Neither,  Sir,"  said  Bertie ;  "  but  I  happen 
to  have  occasion  for  five  hundred  pounds.  I 
have  over-drawn  my  banker,  and  unless  I  call 
and  soothe  the  monster,  I  shall  have  my  drafts 
dishonoured,  or  some  agreeable  affair  of  that 
kind." 

"  Five  hundred  pounds !"  exclaimed  Arden, 
"  what,  George,  will  you  allow  your  friend  to 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  275 

break  up  our  party  for  such  a  mighty  affair  as 
five  hundred  pounds  ?" 

"  Sir,'1  stammered  George,  "  I  know  no- 
thing about  it — I — V 

The  truth  is,  George  had  not  five  hundred 
pounds  at  his  command ;  and  if  he  had  had  five 
millions,  Bertie  at  that  moment  would  have 
shared  none  of  it ;  so  vexed  was  he  at  his  con- 
duct about  the  young  lady,  and  so  anxious  that  he 
should  be  forced  to  go  any  where  rather  than 
stay  where  he  was. 

"  This  is  very  ungracious,  George,"  said  old 
Arden,  "  and  very  unlike  you.  Mr.  Bertie,  you 
must  allow  me  to  correct  my  nephew's  taste ; 
make  me  your  banker.  I  know  what  young 
men  and  their  expenses  are ;  do  me  the  favour 
to  let  me  know  what  will  answer  your  purpose ; 
one  of  my  servants  can  send  your  communica- 
tion to  Lombard  Street,  and  we  shall  still  profit 
by  your  taste  and  judgment.'" 

George  was  thunderstruck  at  this  piece  of 
gratuitous  liberality  ;  in  fact,  it  grieved  as 
much  as  it  surprised  him :  he  fancied  he  per- 
ceived, in  the  extraordinary  change  in  his  uncle's 
manners  and  conduct,  an  alteration  of  character, 
arising,  as  he  feared,  from  a  deterioration  of  in- 


276  THE   MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

tellect,  and  most  assuredly  would  have  saved  the 
old  gentleman's  money  at  the  hazard  of  his  own, 
had  his  finances  been  in  a  condition  to  enable 
him  to  do  so ;  as  it  was,  he  stammered  out  some 
words  confusedly,  and  gave  Bertie  a  look  ex- 
pressive of  a  desire  that  he  should  not  accept  his 
uncle's  proposed  favour. 

Bertie  Noel  could  see  a  Duke  at  half  a  mile, 
and  could  hear  the  softest  whisper  of  invitation 
from  an  immeasurable  distance  ;  but  to  repul- 
sive looks,  or  disagreeable  words,  he  was  as 
blind  as  Homer,  and  as  deaf  as  Miss  Goddy  of 
Geneva ;  and  to  all  the  telegraphing  of  his  friend 
he  paid  not  the  slightest  attention,  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  quietly  repeated  the  extent 
of  his  wants  to  the  Colonel,  who,  to  George's 
utter  confusion,  proceeded  to  write  a  cheque 
for  the  amount,  during  which  process,  the  ami- 
able Noel  exhibited  the  most  unequivocal  signs 
of  triumphant  joy  at  the  unexpected  success 
of  his  attack  upon  the  veteran's  purse. 

It  was  now  that  the  integral  goodness  of 
George's  heart  began  to  shew  itself — it  was  now 
that  he  determined,  at  the  very  first  oppor- 
tunity, to  speak  seriously  to  his  uncle,  and  with 
a  view  of  ascertaining  the  real  character  of  Miss 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  277 

Anstruther,  he  resolved,  whenever  a  fit  season 
should  come,  to  enquire  of  her,  what  period  of 
time  had  elapsed  since  the  extraordinary  change, 
now  so  perceptible  in  the  old  gentleman's  conduct, 
had  been  first  apparent.  He  thought,  by  inducing 
this  conversation,  he  should  be  able  to  satisfy 
his  mind,  as  to  whether  it  was  under  her  influ- 
ence that  wasteful  extravagance  and  wanton  ex- 
penditure had  assumed  the  places  of  moderation 
and  steadiness,  and  discover,  by  the  view  she  ap- 
peared to  take  of  his  uncle's  present  line  of  con- 
duct, what  were  really  the  feelings  by  which  she 
was  actuated,  in  her  conduct  towards  him.  He 
dreaded  the  trial :  he  was  convinced  that  if  his 
worst  suspicions  were  well  founded,  no  repre- 
sentations of  his  could  alter  or  turn  the  course 
of  events,  while  his  interference,  if  reported  by 
Miss  Anstruther  to  his  uncle,  would  perhaps 
exclude  him  from  the  society  of  that  uncle,  or 
as  he  felt  it  still  more  to  be  dreaded,  from  that 
of  Miss  Anstruther  herself. 

The  first  proceeding,  however,  of  the  day 
was  the  visit  to  the  coachmaker's.  Bertie  sud- 
denly recollected,  so  soon  as  he  had  gotten  the 
checque,  that  it  would  be  useless  troubling  the 
Colonel's  servant  to  go  into  the  City  with  it,  be- 


278  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

cause  it  would  be  past  banking-hours  by  the 
time  he  reached  Lombard  Street.  Accordingly 
the  trio  directed  their  steps  saunteringly  towards 
Leader's,  where  they  discovered  that  admirable 
master  of  the  horse,  Mr.  Arthur  Dyson,  actively 
employed,  superintending  the  hanging  of  the  car- 
riage in  question.  This  exemplary  young  man 
having  ascertained  that  George  and  Bertie  were 
gone  to  the  Colonel's,  and  knowing  also,  that  an 
appointment  had  been  made  with  the  coachmaker 
at  half-past  four,  proceeded  to  the  spot  to  wait 
their  arrival,  having  also  ascertained,  from  Wil- 
son, that  the  Colonel  was  to  "  give  a  feed" 
that  day — a  term  introduced,  I  presume,  ori- 
ginally by  the  gentlemen  of  the  turf,  but  now 
applied  indiscriminately  to  such  middle-aged 
and  elderly  dupes,  as  are  sufficiently  good-na- 
tured to  feed  with  dinners  and  fill  with  wine 
the  unhoused  danglers  of  the  day,  in  return 
for  their  trouble  in  dancing  with  their  daugh- 
ters, or  flirting  with  their  wives:  The  giving 
good  feeds  is,  with  many  of  these  youngsters, 
the  grand  criterion  by  which  the  virtues  and 
talents  of  mankind  are  measured.  In  the  City, 
and  amongst  the  junior  branches  of  certain  ho- 
nourable professions,  which  shall  be  nameless, 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  279 

the  phrase  is  stronger,  but  the  value  and  mean- 
ing are  precisely  the  same  :  these  persons  call  a 
similar  favour  "  a  grand  blow-out."  Whenever  I 
hear  a  man  use  either  of  these  expressions  I 
take  out  my  note-book  and  insert  his  name  in 
a  list  which  I  keep  there,  the  classification  of 
which  I  shall  here  omit,  seeing  that  it  may  be 
sufficient  to  observe,  that  the  page  in  which  the 
muster-roll  of  such  persons  is  written,  is  that 
which  is  the  farthest  removed  from  another  list 
which  I  also  keep — of  gentlemen. 

It  will  be  quite  evident,  however,  to  the  class 
of  individuals  alluded  to,  and  who  are  adepts  in 
every  little  meanness  and  contrivance  likely  to 
bring  about  an  invitation,  (or  as  they  call  it 
with  equal  good  taste  an  "invite")  that  Mr. 
Arthur  Dyson  placed  himself  in  Leader's  shop, 
not  so  much  for  the  purpose  of  jumping  and 
bumping  himself  about  in  Colonel  Arden's  new 
carriage  in  order  to  try  the  springs,  as  for  that 
of  getting  asked  to  join  his  dinner-party  in  the 
evening.  The  bait  was  taken  and  the  jockey 
invited,  and  after  a  lengthened  dissertation  upon 
the  relative  merits  of  Poligimcs  and  Grasshop- 
pers, and  all  the  other  varieties  of  the  article  then 
under  discussion,  the  party  separated  for  their 


280  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

morning's  ride  in  the  Park,  binding  themselves 
to  meet  again  at  Colonel  Arden's  at  half  past 
seven. 

These  arrangements  were  concluded  in  a 
manner  highly  satisfactory  to  Messrs.  Noel  and 
Dyson,  who  shortly  after  paired  off  together, 
the  one  to  tell,  and  the  other  to  hear  the  his- 
tory of  Miss  Anstruther,  of  the  way  in  which 
the  old  gentleman's  establishment  was  ma- 
naged, and  all  those  other  little  details  whence 
these  youthful  sages  intended  to  cull  materials, 
whereby  to  guide  their  future  course  of  con- 
duct. 

To  George  alone,  of  the  four,  did  the  ac- 
cession of  his  two  friends  to  the  dinner-table 
appear  to  give  equivocal  satisfaction.  His  uncle 
perceived  the  evidence  of  his  nephew's  feelings  in 
his  countenance,  and  was  pleased  to  see  how  the 
invitations  to  the  young  beaux  affected  him. 
George  was  restless  and  nervous  as  the  hour  of 
dressing  approached,  and  although  his  acquain- 
tance with  Miss  Anstruther  was  but  a  few 
hours  old,  and  although  more  especially  he  had 
been  cautioned  as  to  the  circumstances  of  her 
engagement  to  another,  still  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  and  indeed  there  was  none  at  the  mo. 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  281 

ment  in  the  Colonel's  mind,  that  she  was  the 
cause  of  that  sudden  change  in  his  feelings  to- 
wards his  bosom  friends,  which  was  so  clearly 
perceptible,  They  would  engross  the  conversa- 
tion, they  would  alarm  the  timid  girl  by  the 
boldness  of  their  manner,  perhaps  offend  her 
delicacy  by  the  strain  of  equivoque  and  double- 
entendre  in  which  their  histories  and  anecdotes 
of  real  life  were  usually  delivered ;  in  short,  he 
felt  what  he  could  hardly  account  for,  and  what 
he  certainly  could  not  have  described,  but  which 
wound  itself  up  in  one  little  wish,  that  nobody- 
was  going  to  dine  in  Park  Lane  but  himself,  his 
uncle,  and  Miss  Anstruther. 

To  baffle  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  a  rational 
evening  seemed  to  be  part  of  the  Colonel's 
scheme,  and  accordingly  at  half  past  seven  the 
party  were  assembled,  Arthur  Dyson  being  in 
due  form  presented  to  the  young  lady  of  the 
mansion. 

The  dinner  proceeded  as  usual,  the  dessert 
followed,  Miss  Anstruther  retired,  and  the  after- 
dinner  conversation  ensued  ;  in  which  it  was 
remarked  by  his  observant  cronies,  that  George 
seldom  participated.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  his 
uncle,  and  he  watched  the  varying  expression  of 


282  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

the  old  gentleman's  countenance  as  his  compa- 
nions related  in  their  ordinary  style  the  fa- 
shionable proceedings  of  the  week,  discussed 
with  fluency  and  flippancy  the  talents  of  Minis- 
ters and  the  points  of  race-horses,  scanned  the 
beauties  and  accomplishments  of  ladies,  and  ri- 
diculed the  pretensions  of  their  husbands ;  des- 
canted on  the  relative  merits  of  wines  with  a 
knowledge  of  their  subject  equal  to  that  of 
Henderson  himself,  illustrating  their  lectures 
by  frequent  experiments  upon  the  various  pro- 
ducts of  the  Colonel's  cellar  ;  until,  to  the 
relief  of  their  excellent  friend  George,  who 
had  never  before  thought  them  either  so  stupid 
or  so  wicked,  the  Colonel  proposed  joining  the 
lady  in  the  drawing-room. 

Bertie  Noel  entered  the  room  first,  and  the 
manner  in  which  he  proceeded  to  commence  his 
attack  upon  Louisa  petrified  George,  who  was 
more  than  ever  convinced  of  the  entire  ground- 
lessness of  their  first  suspicions  as  to  the  nature 
of  her  connexion  with  his  uncle.  George's  re- 
serve and  diffidence  were  not  unnoticed  by  any  of 
the  party — Noel  gave  several  significant  glances 
at  Dyson,  and  the  Colonel  looked  and  said  no- 
thing, but  Louisa,  who  appreciated  the  delicacy 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY     FRIENDS.  283 

of  George's  conduct,  and  whose  whole  heart  in 
fact  was  his,  evinced  her  feelings  on  the  sub- 
ject by  a  measure  so  decided,  that  the  young 
gentlemen  who  were  not  at  all  in  the  secret,  with 
difficulty  suppressed  a  most  uncivilized  laugh. 

After  enduring  for  some  quarter  of  an  hour 
a  strained  conversation  with  Mr.  Noel,  who,  sim- 
pering to  show  his  teeth,  had  fixed  his  downcast 
eyes  upon  her  person,  with  an  expression,  which, 
although  to  her  innocent  and  virtuous  mind  but 
half  intelligible,  excited  sufficient  disgust  to  make 
her  shrink  from  his  advances  and  attentions ; 
she  quitted  the  sofa  she  had  been  unwillingly 
sharing  with  the  self-pleased  beau,  crossed  the 
room  and  called  the  attention  of  George  to  some 
splendid  work  of  art  which  was  lying  on  a  table 
in  a  different  part  of  the  apartment. 

Tfcis  sudden  and  independent  movement  was 
seen  and  noticed  by  all  the  party,  each  one  of 
whom  was  watching  what  might  happen  with 
the  deepest  interest.  George  could  not  be 
insensible  to  the  marked  preference  thus  de- 
cidedly shown  him — he  felt  delighted;  and  as 
he  looked  on  the  lovely  girl  who  addressed  him, 
their  eyes  met — hers  were  not  abruptly  or 
timidly  withdrawn,  as  they  had  been  from  the 


284  THE    MAK   OF    MANY    FRIENDS, 

wanton  gaze  of  Noel ;  that  difference,  too,  was 
observed  by  all.  To  the  old  gentleman  it  was 
neither  extraordinary  nor  displeasing — to  the 
young  ones  it  seemed  natural  enough,  because 
Arden  was  a  good-looking  fellow,  and  the  Co- 
lonel was  his  uncle ;  but  to  George  himself  it 
was  inexplicable. 

Established  at  the  remote  table  on  which  the 
book  in  question  was  placed,  the  young  couple 
30on  became  interested  in  their  subject,  animated 
in  their  remarks,  and  George,  riveted  by  the 
unaffected  intelligence  of  his  fair  partner,  was 
so  completely  absorbed  in  admiration  of  the 
sweetness  of  her  manner,  her  beauty,  and  her 
tenderness  (for  he  was  no  stranger  to  her),  that 
he  was  absolutely  thunderstruck,  when  his  uncle, 
advancing  to  the  sacred  corner  where  they  were 
installed,  informed  him,  that  as  his  friend  Mr. 
Noel  had  just  told  him  that  the  hotel  where  he 
lived  was  about  to  be  repaired  and  re-painted, 
he  had  prevailed  upon  that  gentleman  to  accept 
of  rooms  in  his  house. 

"  What  here,  Sir !"  exclaimed  George. 

"  To  be  sure,  George,"  said  the  Colonel ;  "  I 
have  no  other  town  house  to  offer." 

George  looked  half  wild  at  the  information, 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  285 

Louisa  appeared  startled,  but  Bertie  said,  that 
it  really  was  the  kindest  thing  imaginable  of 
the  Colonel,  for  the  smell  of  paint  was  ruinous 
to  health,  and  that  as  to  going  into  strange 
lodgings  at  the  end  of  the  season,  after  they 
had  been  flavoured  for  three  or  four  months  by 
other  people,  it  was  perfectly  abominable. 

All  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  George 
Arden  were  at  an  end.  What !  was  his  uncle 
then  really  mad  ?  introduce  a  libertine  like 
Bertie  Noel,  as  an  inmate  into  the  house  with 
such  a  creature  as  Miss  Anstruther  ? 

It  appeared  indeed  so  like  insanity,  that  the 
unhappy  nephew  was  doubly  grieved  and  mor- 
tified at  the  announcement  of  such  an  intention. 
He  tried  to  frustrate  the  scheme  by  saying, 
"  that  there  was  a  room  in  his  house  quite  at 
Noel's  service,  as  he  knew — and — " 

"  Ten  thousand  thanks,  my  dear  George,1' 
said  Noel,  "  but  here  I  can  have  the  advan- 
tage of  Miss  Anstruther's  assistance  at  the 
breakfast-table:  and  a  breakfast-table  without 
a  lady  is  a  perfect  desert.  I  hope,  Miss  An- 
struther, you  like  green  tea?  I  must  insist 
upon  green  tea,  Colonel — 'tis  the  only  point  I 
make." 


286  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Whatever  you  please,  my  dear  Sir,"  said 
old  Arden ;  "  to  prove  by  my  conduct  the  es- 
timation in  which  I  hold  the  friends  of  my 
nephew  will  be  my  greatest  pleasure ;  and,  I 
am  sure,  my  young  lady  here,  will  second  my 
endeavours  to  make  your  residence  agreeable 
under  my  roof." 

"  You  may  rely  upon  it,  Colonel,"  said  Noel, 
"  the  desire  to  be  agreeable  will  be  mutual." 
At  the  end  of  which  significant  speech,  Dyson 
coughed — perhaps  accidentally,  and  George  felt 
more  than  half  inclined  to  withdraw  his  uncle, 
and  remonstrate  upon  the  extraordinary  nature 
of  his  invitation.  He  repressed  the  inclination, 
but  was  by  no  means  more  easy  or  comfortable, 
when  he  saw,  probably  in  pursuance  of  some 
telegraphic  hint  from  the  old  gentleman,  his  ado- 
rable Miss  Anstruther  actually  join  in  a  conver- 
sation with  Bertie,  in  a  manner  more  unrestrain- 
ed,  more  lively,  and  evincing  decidedly  more 
pleasure,  than  was  perceptible  in  her  former  col- 
loquy with  the  same  person.  All  at  once  he  fan- 
cied that  he  had  been  deceived  in  her ;  that  she 
would  have  liked  the  conversation  in  the  corner 
to  have  assumed  a  different  character  from  that 
which  it  really  took;  and  that  to  a  discussion 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  287 

upon  etchings  and  engravings,  she  would  have 
preferred  some  more  moving  theme,  and  per- 
haps expected  proofs  of  the  impression  which 
herself  had  made. 

But  when  the  moment   of  separation  came, 
and  Bertie  Noel  evinced  strong  symptoms  of  an 
intention  to  outstay  George   and  Dyson,    who 
were  going  home  together,  the  young  gentle- 
man's irritation  was  manifest,  and  in  the  eyes  of 
his  quondam  friend  extremely  entertaining ;  no 
little  manoeuvre,  no  sly  suggestion,  no  general 
remark  was  left  untried  which  he  thought  likely 
to  shake  the  purpose  of   his  dear  Bertie,  but 
when  they  were  on  the  very  point  of  quitting 
the  room,  and  his  uncle  said   to  Noel,    "you 
need  not  leave  us  just  yet,  Mr.  Noel — George  has 
his  carriage  here,  and  does  not  go  your  way," 
George   was   absolutely   giddy  and   half  blind 
with  that  sort  of  sickness,  utterly  indescribable 
to  any  body  who  has  not  at  some  time  or  other 
suffered  it : — it  proceeds  from  an  absolute  devo- 
tion to  one  only  object,  (the  attainment  to  which 
is  environed  by  all  sorts  of  dangers  and  difficul- 
ties,) thwarted  by  the  free  and  easy  familiarity 
of  some  heartless  adversary,  who,  without  aim 
or  object  perhaps,  usurps  the  place  one  would 


288     THE  MAN  OF  MANY  FRIENDS. 

give  the  universe  to  occupy,  and  maintains  his 
ground  with  perfect  nonchalance,  while  his  suf- 
fering rival  (as,  perhaps,  he  only  fancies  him- 
self,) is  compelled  by  some  untoward  circum- 
stance to  leave  him  in  quiet  possession  of  the 
envied  station. 

Sir  Richard  Steele,  I  think  it  is,  who  de- 
scribes this  feeling  in  one  of  his  plays,  where  he 
makes  a  lover  say  to  his  mistress : 

"  O£you  I  am  not  jealous, 
"  'Tis  my  own  indesert  that  gives  me  fears, 
"  And  tenderness  forms  dangers  where  they  're  not. 
"  I  doubt,  and  envy  all  things  that  approach  thee  ! 
"■  Not  a  fond  mother  of  a  long  wish'd-for  only  child 
"  Beholds  with  such  kind  terrors  her  infant  offspring, 
"  As  1  do  her  1  love  \" 

This  was  the  feeling  of  poor  George  at  the 
moment  of  breaking  up  the  party.  He  had  gone 
too  far  to  retract  his  intention  of  departing ;  he 
could  not  of  course  force  away  his  friend,  and  as 
the  Colonel  so  pointedly  invited  him  to  stay  be- 
yond the  others,  George  quitted  the  apartment 
and  the  house,  accompanied  by  Dyson,  in  a  hu- 
mour by  no  means  agreeable  either  to  himself 
or  his  companion. 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  289 

"  That 's  a  fine  girl,  George,"  said  Dyson,  as 
they  walked  down  Brook  Street  —  for  George 
had  sent  away  his  carnage — why,  he  did  not 
exactly  know,  and,  therefore,  I  am  wholly  in- 
competent to  say. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  George,  "  a  very  charming 
young  lady,  indeed.,, 

"  You  have  hit  her  hard,  George,"  said  Dy- 
son ;  "  she 's  done,  Sir, — knocked  over — hasn't 
a  foot  to  stand  on." 

"  What  do  you  mean  F"  asked  Arden. 

"  Mean!  Why,  what  does  hunting  in  couples 
mean  ? — what  did  all  that  nose-rubbing  between 
you  mean? — why  did  she  ask  you  to  come  and 
look  over  prints  in  a  corner  ?— you  are  up  to  that 
sort  of  thing  I  suppose,  Mr.  Arden :  she 's  as 
nice  an  article  as  I  Ve  seen  for  some  time,  and 
I  wish  you  joy.  If  she  doesn't  come  to  corn 
without  shaking  the  sieve  twice,  I  '11  never  back 
a  horse  again — only  I  'd  advise  you  to  keep 
your  eye  over  your  shoulder  as  you  go  along — 
Master  Noel  will  be  close  at  your  haunches." 

«  Noel  be P 

"  Hallo  !  Hallo  P  said  Dyson,  "  what 's  the 
matter,  George,  restive? — why,  this  is  a  new  fling 
out !  what,  are  your  *  withers  wrung,'  already  ?" 

vol.  I.  o 


290  THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FEIENDS. 

"  I  am  in  no  humour  to  joke  on  the  subject, 
Dyson,'"  said  Arden ;  "  we  had  better  change  it." 

u  With  all  my  heart,  George,"  said  Dyson* 
"  I  only  threw  out  a  warning — I  Kke  fair  starts. 
I  don't  care  three  yards  of  whip-cord  for  the 
girl,  myself,  but  I  hate  jostling  and  crossing : 
Noel  has  got  a  stall  close  to  the  course- — always 
ready  for  morning  exercise— that 's  what  I  call 
a  distance  and  seven  pounds.  I  merely  give  ad- 
vice— it  don't  suit  my  book  to  meddle  with  such 
things,  but  I  can  see;  and  fond  as  the  little  thing 
seems  of  you  just  now,  there 's  nothing  like  con- 
stant work.     Bertie  will  be  always  at  hand." 

"  Mr.  Noel,"  said  George,  "  knows  better 
than  to  presume  to " 

"  Come  now  I  Ve  done,  Arden,"  said  Dyson ; 
"  here  we  are  at  your  door.  I  didn't  think  the 
thing  had  gone  half  so  far— and  now  I  see  you 
are  in  earnest,  perhaps  it  may  give  you  a  com- 
fortable night's  rest  to  tell  you,  that  with  tliat 
girl,  Noel  has  no  chance  against  you.  You  could 
give  him  two  stone  and  a  half,  and  beat  him  in 
a  canter — you  are  a-head  of  him  already— keep 
the  lead,  now  you  have  got  it — all  I  say  is,  look 
now  and  then  over  your  shoulder." 

And  at  the  conclusion  of  this  technical  and 
seasonable  advice  the  friends  entered  the  house, 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  291 

and  although  Dyson  endeavoured  to  draw  out 
George  upon  the  tender  topic  of  Miss  Anstru- 
ther, he  did  not  succeed;  indeed  his  manner  was 
neither  so  worldly,  nor  so  winning  as  Noel's,  and 
he  contented  himself  by  eulogizing  the  Colonel  as 
a  fine  old  fellow^  and  a  jolly  old  boy,  and  a  prince 
of  an  uncle,  until  he  touched  the  other  string, 
which  was  ready  to  vibrate  to  his  hearer's  heart. 
Next  to  the  newly  created  sentiment  for  Miss 
Anstruther,  and  his  sudden  inveterate  hatred  of 
Bertie  Noel,  the  anxiety  he  felt  for  the  sake  of 
his  uncle  was  the  strongest  and  most  exciting- 
feeling  which  agitated  him;  and  it  was  with 
mingled  regret  and  surprize  he  discovered 
that  the  old  gentleman  had  solicited  Dyson 
to  make  up  a  whist  party  for  him  at  George's 
on  the  following  day,  where  it  had  been  previ- 
ously fixed  that  he  should  dine — an  arrange- 
ment, now  that  he  had  seen  Miss  Anstruther, 
George  at  once  discovered  to  be  extremely 
disagreeable,  and  particularly  inconvenient: 
she,  of  course,  would  not  be  of  his  party, 
and  the  possibility  of  her  being  left  alone 
in  the  house  with  Noel,  (to  whom  George  re- 
solved on  sending  the  most  pressing  invitation,) 
appeared  to  him  absolutely  appalling. 
o2 


292  THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

"  I  suppose  Mead  and  Dalby  may  dine  here 
to-morrow,  George  ?"  said  Dyson. 

"  To  be  sure,  Arthur,"  replied  Arden,  "  we 
cannot  well  make  up  our  table  without  them." 

"  I  mentioned  their  names  to  your  uncle," 
said  Dyson,  "  and  he  desired  particularly  to 
know  them." 

"  Then  by  all  means  despatch  notes  early  to 
them,"  said  George ;  "  do  not  let  my  uncle  be 
disappointed." 

"  He  is  an  uncle,"  exclaimed  Arthur,  "  an 
uncle  who  does  honour  to  the  age  !" 

"  So  he  is,  Arthur,"  answered  George;  "  but 
I  know  his  property  pretty  well,  and  he  appears 
to  me  to  be  carrying  his  liberality  and  extrava- 
gance too  far." 

"  What 's  that  to  us,"  said  Dyson ;  "  he  is  off 
at  score,  that's  true,  but  he  has  been  hoarding 
so  long,  that,  like  a  river  pent  up  within  locks, 
his  money  rushes  out  dashingly ;  after  the  first 
flood,  the  current  will  run  more  quietly:  no 
doubt  that  orphan  of  his — that  slip  of  the 
country  parson,  keeps  the  whip-hand,  gives  him 
the  spur  and  lets  him  go ; — when  once  the  wo- 
men get  hold  of  our  hearts,  George,  heads  are 
out  of  the  question." 


THE   MAN    OF    MANY   FRIENDS.  293 

<6  Miss  Anstruther  is  incapable  of  crime  or 
folly,  Arthur,"  said  Arden. 

fc<  I  think  so  too,'"  said  Dyson ;  "  the  folly  is 
your  uncle's,  and  the  taking  advantage  of  it  is 
no  crime." 

"  I  must  not  hear  this  language,  Arthur," 
said  Arden ;  "  I  'm  tired — let  the  conversation 
drop,  and  I  beseech  you  never  let  it  be  re- 
sumed. What  Miss  Anstruther  is,  remains  to  be 
proved — what  my  uncle  is,  is  proved  already  ; 
and  not  one  syllable  derogatory  to  his  character 
or  conduct  must  be  uttered  in  my  presence,  and 
so,  good  night." 

Saying  which  the  friends  parted,  Dyson  con- 
vinced, that  if  the  young  lady  should  happen  to 
turn  out  well,  she  would  inevitably  and  speedily 
become  Mrs.  George  Arden, — a  circumstance 
dreaded  beyond  all  others  by  the  hangers-on  of 
her  devoted  admirer,  as  certain  to  cause  their 
expulsion,  and  the  substitution  of  comfort  and 
good  order  for  riotous  excess  and  profligate 
libertinism  in  the  Grosvenor  Street  establish- 
ment. To  avert  such  an  evil,  was,  of  course, 
Dyson's  object  as  much  now  as  it  had  been  when 
the  Lady  Frances  threatened  the  subversion  of 
the  irregular  republic,  in  which  Mr.  Dyson  and 
many   of    his   friends   had   voices:    to  forward 


294  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

Noel's  affair  with  Louisa  was  therefore  Dyson's 
game  in  the  present  instance,  and  every  kind 
of  scheme  was  canvassed  in  his  mind  before  he 
went  to  sleep,  by  which,  with  the  aid  of  that 
inestimable  spy  in  the  enemy's  camp,  Mr.  Wil- 
son, they  might  produce,  if  it  were  to  be  pro- 
duced, such  an  eclaircissement,  as  should  at 
once  decide  the  question,  wholly  regardless  of 
the  feelings  of  the  exemplary  old  gentleman 
who  had  treated  them  so  kindly  and  hospi-, 
tably. 

The  morning  of  the  following  day  had  been 
fixed  in  the  course  of  the  evening  for  Miss  An- 
struther  and  the  Colonel  to  call  at  George's 
house  in  Grosvenor  Street,  which,  as  it  was  sup- 
posed  that  the  young  lady  had  never  seen  it,  it 
was  natural  to  expect  she  should  wish  to  see,  be- 
cause the  ebony  cabinets,  and  tortoiseshell  and 
buhl  commodes,  and  Etruscan  vases,  and  Sevres 
tables,  and  antique  ornaments  of  Mr.  George 
Arden  were  celebrated  all  over  London ;  and, 
accordingly,  Dyson  resolved  upon  choosing  the 
time  when  that  visit  was  making  to  find  out 
Noel,  if  he  happened  not  to  be  of  the  party, 
and  urge  the  necessity  of  expedition ;  to  point 
out  the  dangerous  symptoms  and  tendency  of 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIRNDS.  295 

George's  mental  disorder,  and  obtain  at  the 
same  time  from  Wilson  such  suggestions  and 
reports  as  might  be  most  essential  to  the  lauda- 
ble undertaking  which  had  for  its  object,  either 
the  ruin  of  a  virtuous  and  amiable  girl,  or  a 
violation  of  the  rights  of  hospitality,  which 
would  infallibly  render  an  honourable  old  gen- 
tleman miserable  and  contemptible. 

All  turned  out  to  the  heart's  content  of  the 
conspirators,  and  in  furtherance  of  the  plan, 
Noel,  who  had  not  yet  availed  himself  of  the 
Colonel's  offer  of  apartments  in  his  house,  but 
who  had  announced  his  intention  of  installing 
himself  that  very  evening,  did  not  visit  Park 
Lane  previously  to  the  departure  of  its  inha- 
bitants to  George's  residence,  and  the  Colonel 
and  Louisa  departed  alone,  and  arrived  alone  in 
Grosvenor  Street. 

This  to  the  young  man  was  perfect  delight ; 
he  again  beheld  his  charming  new  acquaintance, 
saw  her  again,  all  intellect,  mildness,  modesty, 
and  kindness,  and  his  joy  would  have  been  un- 
alloyed, had  it  not  been  for  the  painful  anticipa- 
tion of  the  announcement  of  some  other  visitors: 
the  Colonel  saw  how  the  charm  was  working, 
and  after  having  partaken  of  some   luncheon, 


296  THE    MAN    OF   MANY   FRIENDS. 

the  old  gentleman  asked  Louisa  whether  she 
would  lend  him  her  carriage  to  go  as  far  as 
Hanover  Square,  or  whether  she  were  afraid  of 
trusting  herself  with  his  nephew  till  he  came 
back. 

To  George  the  proposition  appeared  the  most 
extraordinary:  it  seemed  at  once  strange  and 
indelicate,  and,  more  than  any  thing  which  had 
yet  transpired,  induced  him  to  doubt  the  real 
nature  of  Louisa's  connexion  with  his  uncle: 
he  paused  a  moment  anxiously  for  her  answer, 
determining  to  be  guided  entirely  by  that  in  his 
final  decision  upon  her  conduct  and  character. 
Judge  his  amazement,  his  positive  mortification, 
when  Louisa,  looking  archly,  and  in  a  manner 
to  him  wholly  inexplicable,  avowed  her  perfect 
willingness  fearlessly  to  submit  herself  to  his 
custody  until  his  uncle  should  return. 

It  was  this  unreserved  frankness  in  her  man- 
ner to  George,  the  unembarrassed  freedom  which 
so  distinctly  characterized  her  intercourse  with 
him,  which  established  in  Noel's  mind  the  cer- 
tainty of  her  impropriety  ;  he  saw  effects  without 
searching  for  causes,  and  little  imagined  that  in 
the  newly  arrived  Miss  Anstruther,  he  beheld 
the  constant  playmate  of  George's  youth,  the 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  297 

inseparable  companion  of  his  early  years.  As  for 
George  himself,  the  complete  alteration  of  her 
person,  which  I  have  already  noticed,  destroyed 
any  recollection  which  he  might  have  had  of 
her  appearance  as  a  child ;  and  now  the  very 
singular  absence  of  all  ceremony,  and  her  ready 
and  unembarrassed  concession  to  a  most  unac- 
countable whim  of  his  uncle's,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, brought  him  a  little  round  to  his  friend's 
way  of  thinking.  The  real  nature  of  Arden's 
own  sentiments  towards  her  may  be  safely  tried 
by  the  test  of  his  present  feelings  ;  the  joy  and 
pleasure  which  an  ardent  lover  might  naturally 
anticipate  in  a  lengthened  tete-a-tete  with  such 
a  girl,  instantly  gave  way  to  grief  and  disap- 
pointment that  she  should  so  easily  and  readily 
have  granted  him  such  an  advantage.  Still  he 
relied  upon  his  vaunted  knowledge  of  human 
nature  to  ascertain  during  the  next  hour  the 
real  merits  of  the  case,  and  rejoiced  at  all  events 
that  the  opportunity  which  he  had  so  anxiously 
sought  to  speak  to  her  of  his  uncle's  proceedings, 
had  thus  strangely  and  unexpectedly  presented 
itself.  He  was  hardly  prepared  for  the  sequel ; 
which,  it  must  be  confessed,  seemed  even  in  the 
o5 


298  THE    MAN    OF   MANY    FKIENDS. 

rage  for  extremes,  so  evident  in  his  uncle's  pre- 
sent variable  conduct,  something  like  "  carrying 
the  joke  too  far." 

"  One  condition,  George,  I  must  make  for 
my  fair  friend,"  said  the  old  gentleman.  "  It 
is  all  very  well,  and  extremely  correct,  con- 
nected as  we  are,  that  she  should  trust  herself 
here  during  my  short  absence  ;  but  I  should  not 
wish  that  any  of  your  numerous  friends  should 
know  the  fact,  and  therefore  you  had  better 
give  directions  to  your  porter  to  admit  no  other 
visitor  till  I  return." 

George  looked  at  Louisa,  doubtingly,  as  if 
expecting  either  a  remonstrance  or  a  flood  of 
tears,  or  some  violent  exhibition  of  outraged  de- 
licacy or  offended  pride,  instead  of  whkh  all  she 
said  was,  addressing  herself  to  George,  "  how 
extremely  prudent  your  uncle  is,  Mr.  Arden ; 
he  really  is  the  most  considerate  person  alive." 

This  completed  the  mystification  and  redou- 
bled ArdWs  agitation:  as  the  Colonel,  however, 
desired  it,  the  orders  were  given,  the  old  gen- 
tleman retired,  and  George  and  Louisa  found 
themselves  alone  in  the  drawing-room. 

It  will  not  be  difficult  for  my  readers  to  ima- 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  299 

gine  the  embarrassment  which,  under  the  pre- 
sent extraordinary  circumstances,  overcame  poor 
George :  he  felt  his  colour  come  and  go,  his 
heart  beat,  and  his  bosom  heaved :  before  him 
was  the  object  of  his  present  admiration  and 
devotion — upon  the  conduct  of  the  next  half 
hour  depended  perhaps  his  happiness  for  life. 
Anxious  beyond  measure,  if  possible,  to  satisfy 
the  doubts  and  dispel  the  apprehensions  which 
Noel  had  at  first  excited,  and  which  the  ex- 
traordinary conduct  of  the  young  lady  herself 
seemed  in  some  degree  to  justify,  he  dreaded 
even  the  result  more  than  the  uncertainty ;  in- 
deed at  the  moment  his  uncle  left  the  room  he 
did  not  exactly  perceive  (even  if  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  the  measure)  by  what  means  to 
attain  to  the  knowledge,  the  possession  of  which 
he  so  ardently  desired. 

The  door  was  closed  and  yet  the  youthful 
couple  remained  silent ;  it  was  the  eloquent  si- 
lence of  deep  feeling  :  he  looked  at  Louisa,  and, 
powerfully  contrasted  with  his  own  agitation, 
beheld  her  placidly  and  quietly  turning  over 
the  leaves  of  a  book,  from  which  it  must  be 
owned  she  at  the  moment  raised  her  eyes  with 


300  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

an  extremely  equivocal  expression,  conveying  to 
her  companion  a  sort  of  arch  reproach  for  his 
timidity  and  perturbation. 

This  George  saw,  and  knowing  that  in  mo- 
ments of  trial  and  circumstances  of  peril  and 
perplexity  women  possess  a  presence  of  mind 
and  power  of  acting  which  nature  has  denied  to 
man,  felt  at  once  warmed  by  Louisa's  encourag- 
ing look,  puzzled  as  to  its  exact  meaning,  vexed 
at  his  own  suppositions,  and  ashamed  of  his  own 
pusillanimity; — yet  to  address  her  in  any  lan- 
guage but  that  of  friendship  would  be  absurd — 
he  should  render  himself  ridiculous ;  while,  if  he 
allowed  the  favourable  opportunity  of  saying 
something  to  pass  away,  he  doubtlessly  would 
incur  the  contempt  of  his  fair  companion. 

The  veriest  novice  could  not  have  made  his 
advances  upon  such  an  occasion  more  awkwardly 
than  our  boasted  professor  of  anthroposophy ; 
at  length  he  broke  the  silence  by  some  common- 
place question,  to  which  Louisa  gave  an  answer 
so  grave  and  elaborate,  that  he  was  convinced 
she  had  no  disposition  to  remain  mute,  whatever 
he  might  have. 

Having,  however,  given  the  coup  d'essai, 
George  rallied  his  spirits,   and  after  gazing  on 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS.  301 

her  for  a  moment,  proceeded  with  a  little  faulter- 
ing  hesitation  to  tell  her  that  he  was  most  an- 
xious to  seize  the  opportunity  afforded  them 
by  the  eccentricity  of  his  dear  uncle  to  make  a 
confidence  which  he  trusted  to  her  goodness  to 
excuse. 

Louisa  bowed  assent,  and  listened,  having, 
as  I  verily  believe,  prepared  herself  for  an 
abrupt  declaration  from  the  impetuous  young 
gentleman.  "  It  is  impossible,  Miss  Anstru- 
ther,"  continued  Arden,  "  not  to  perceive  that 
my  uncle  is  proceeding  in  a  career,  as  little  re- 
concileable  to  his  habits  and  propensities,  as 
it  is  consonant  with  his  age  or  circumstances. 
Will  you  tell  me  how  long,  and  under  what 
influence,  this  extraordinary  change  has  taken 
place  ?" 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  appeal,  the  expres- 
sion of  Louisa's  countenance  was  completely 
changed,  and  she  could  hardly  conceal  the  sur- 
prise, not  unmingled  with  pleasure,  which  she 
felt,  when  she  found  her  swain  devoting  to  the 
interests  of  his  uncle  the  critical  hour  which 
she  apprehended  he  might  have  employed,  if 
not  in  a  worthier,  at  least  in  a  very  different 
manner. 


302  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  That,"  said  she,  "  I  cannot  tell  you,  Mr. 
Arden ;  but  I,  who  owe  all  to  the  Colonel,  see 
it  as  plainly  as  you  do :  I  lament  it  perhaps  as 
bitterly ;  for  when  he  was  in  the  country,  sur- 
rounded by  suitable  friends,  engaged  in  rational 
pursuits,  respected  and  esteemed  as  he  was,  he 
was  indeed  in  his  proper  sphere.  Here  his  con- 
duct is  extravagant  and  extraordinary ;  he  has 
formed  sudden  and  close  intimacies  with  men  so 
much  his  juniors,  whose  accomplishments  are  of 
a  different  school,  whose  manners  are  of  a  dif- 
ferent age,  that  I  tremble  at  the  prospect  before 
us,  yet,  being  a  dependent,  how  dare  I  speak." 

"  Then  you,"  said  George,  "  have  never  en- 
couraged the  disposition  which  so  strikingly 
evinces  itself?" 

"  I !"  exclaimed  Louisa,  "  I !  who  love  your 
uncle  r 

"  Love  !  Miss  Anstruther,"  repeated  George. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Arden,  love,  with  all  a  daugh- 
ter's affection.  Surely,  Sir,  grateful  love  such 
as  mine  is  neither  improper  nor  unnatural." 

"  I — am — wholly  unaware,  Miss  Anstruther," 
stammered  George, — "  of — the— circumstances 
in  which — " 

"  You  shall  be  informed  of  them  all,"  said 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  303 

Louisa,  "  at  any  time  you  please,  except  this ; 
the  story  is  long,  and  not  a  good  subject  for 
a  tSte-a-t£te" 

This  bit  of  naivete  upset  all  the  hopes  her 
former  speech  had  excited ;  he  recurred  to  the 
print-book  in  the  corner  the  evening  before,  and 
to  Dyson's  raillery  of  his  timid  conduct  upon 
that  occasion ;  his  doubts  were  again  excited,  and 
he  was  at  the  moment  mightily  puzzled  how  to 
act. 

"  Pray,"  said  be,  "  allow  me  to  ask  one  ques- 
tion. You  have  been  some  time  resident  with 
my  uncle,  did  you  ever  see  at  his  house,  or  hear 
him  speak  of  a  cousin  of  mine,  Louisa  Neville  ?" 

This  unexpected  question  was  a  nervous  one, 
and  startled  Louisa  visibly.  She  faultered  a 
little,  blushed,  looked  down,  and  merely  said, 
"  she  had  never  met  her." 

It  was  clear  then  that  the  Colonel  did  not 
introduce  Miss  Anstruther  to  his  female  friends, 
and  equally  clear  that  Miss  Anstruther 's  embar- 
rassment at  the  moment  arose  from  the  neces- 
sity she  was  under  of  avowing  the  fact,  or  at 
least  admitting  it. 

"  Did  you  never  hear  my  uncle  speak  of 
her?"  said  George. 


304  THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

"  Frequently ,"  replied  the  young  lady.  "  I 
have  heard  your  uncle  say,  that  you  were 
the  greatest  possible  friends  as  children — play- 
fellows?" 

"  True,"  said  George,  "  true,  Miss  Anstru- 
ther." 

"  And,  I  believe  he  thinks,"  continued 
Louisa,  "  that  you  entertain  some  lingering 
affection  for  her  now,  and  still  more,  that  the 
feeling  is  mutual." 

"  I  was  afraid  of  that"  said  George.  "  It 
is  a  point  upon  which  I  must  undeceive  him.  I 
do  assure  you,  Miss  Anstruther,  and  I  speak  it 
in  all  the  candour  and  sincerity  of  my  heart, 
that  she  does  not  retain  the  smallest  share  of  it. 
She  was  a  good-natured,  hoydenish,  white-haired 
girl,  full  of  fun  and  laugh,  and  I  was  a  boy  who 
liked  her  mirth,  and  romped  with  her,  and — " 

"  Pray,"  said  Louisa,  recollecting  the  ten 
thousand  pranks  which,  in  the  innocence  of 
their  young  hearts,  they  had  played  with  each 
other,  "  don't  make  me  your  confidante.  I  dare 
say,  if  the  truth  were  known,  the  young  lady  is 
equally  heart-whole  with  yourself." 

"  I  fervently  hope  she  is,"  said  Arden,  se- 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  305 

riously,  "  J  have  no  heart  for  her,  Miss  Anstru- 
ther." 

"  This  is  a  subject,  Mr.  Arden,  I  think  we 
had  better  not  touch  upon,"  said  Louisa,  in  a 
tone  equally  grave.  "  Suppose,  by  way  of 
changing  it,  we  amuse  ourselves  by  criticizing 
your  animated  friend,  Mr.  Noel." 

"  Noel,  Miss  Anstruther  I"  said  George, 
gravely ;  "  how  comes  Mr.  Noel  to  be  associated 
in  your  mind  with  such  a  subject ." 

"  Why,  very  naturally,"  replied  Louisa,  co- 
quettishly.  "  Mr.  Noel,  I  think,  appears  to  have 
a  heart  to  lend,  at  all  events." 

"  Perhaps  you  admire  Noel?"  asked  George. 

"  I  think  him  extremely  handsome,"  answer- 
ed Louisa,  "  gay,  and  good-humoured." 

"  Indeed !  yes,  he  is,"  muttered  George. 

"  In  short,  I  conclude  he  must  be  all  that  is 
amiable,"  continued  Louisa,  "  from  possessing 
so  considerable  a  share  of  your  friendship." 

"  Friendship  !"  repeated  George,  bitterly. 

"  Your  uncle  seems  perfectly  enchanted  with 
him." 

"  My  uncle's  feelings  are,  of  course,  uncon- 
trollable by  me,"  said  George ;  "  but  what  do 
you  feel  towards  him,  Miss  Anstruther  ?" 


306  THE   MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS, 

"  Umph,"  said  Louisa,  purposely  hesitating  ; 
"  I  have  already  said,  I  think  him  pleasant,  and 
handsome,  and — ? 

"  Oh !  very,  very,"  said  George,  interrupting 
her  hastily,  not  knowing  what  he  said. 

"  But  as  my  fate  is  sealed  in  this  world," 
added  Louisa,  "  I  have  no  chance  of  being  ho- 
noured by  his  countenance  or  affection." 

"  Miss  Anstruther,"  said  George,  warmly, 
"  this  sort  of  conduct  and  conversation  is  not 
natural  to  you.  You  are  at  one  moment  all  that 
human  being  could  wish  you ;  at  others  you 
speak  and  act  as  if  you  would  drive  me  mad." 

"  Mr.  Arden  !"  exclaimed  Louisa. 

"  It  is  true,  all  true,"  cried  George :  "  you 
are  a  riddle-~-a  mystery:  you  seem  to  possess 
some  potent  spell  to  command  my  destiny.  I 
know  nothing  of  what  I  am  saying;  but,  I 
conjure  you,  I  implore  you,  relieve  my  anxiety 
— explain — tell  me  whom  it  is  I  address,  and 
under  what  circumstances  this  close  alliance 
between  you  and  my  uncle  has  been  brought 
about." 

Saying  which,  the  young  enthusiast,  to  en- 
force his  petition,  actually  threw  himself  upon 
his  knees  before  the  astonished  young  lady;  who, 
rising  from  her  chair  at  the  same  moment,  gave 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  307 

a  new  and  clearer  effect  to  the  scene  which  burst 
upon  Colonel  Arden's  sight,  who,  having  that 
moment  returned  from  his  visit  to  Hanover 
Square,  entered  his  nephew's  drawing-room  ex- 
actly at  the  interesting  crisis. 

"  Good  heavens  !"  exclaimed  Louisa,  "  Mr. 
Arden  !" 

"  Miss  Anstruther,  hear  me  !"  cried  George, 
not  perceiving  the  arrival  of  the  Colonel,"  my 
uncle — " 

"  Well,  Sir,  what  have  you  to  say  about 
your  uncle  ?"  cried  the  old  gentleman  :  "  get  off 
your  knees  as  fast  as  possible,  I  desire,  Sir." 

Arden  was  petrified. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this,  young 
folks  ?"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  To  what  have  you  exposed  me,  Mr.  Ar- 
den ?"  said  Louisa. 

"lam  ruined  !"  said  George. 

"  Don't  disturb  yourself,  Mr.  Arden,"  said 
the  Colonel ;  "  this  is,  to  be  sure,  what  may  be 
called  making  the  most  of  time,  and  evincing  a 
high  sense  of  honourable  delicacy  towards  my 
poor  little  lamb.  Have  you  been  frightened, 
dearest  ?"  added  he,  addressing  Miss  Neville, 
who  be  it  understood  was  actually  in  a  dreadful 
state  of  alarm  lest  she  should  laugh  outright 


308  THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

at  the  comical  distress  of  the  unsuspecting  play- 
fellow of  her  youth. 

"  Not  much,  Sir,"  answered  she. 

"  In  the  country,"  continued  the  Colonel, 
"  true  love  is  timid,  silent,  watchful,  and  re- 
spectful j — here — " 

"  Love  F  exclaimed  Miss  Neville,  "  it  was  in 
the  language  of  anger  and  rage  that  your  ne- 
phew was  addressing  me  when  you  came  in." 

"  An  odd  position,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  to 
have  taken  up  for  that  purpose  ;  to  be  sure,  in 
our  service  the  front  ranks  fire  kneeling,  but 
then  George  is  no  soldier.  However,  there 
seems  but  one  course  for  me  to  adopt  at  the 
moment.  Let  me  see  you  to  your  carriage, 
love,  and  remove  you  from  this  scene  of  conta- 
mination to  a  safer  place,  where  by  forbidding 
the  future  visits  of  this  rash  young  gentle- 
man I  may  place  you  beyond  the  reach  of 
insult  and  intemperance."  Then  turning  to 
George,  who  had  thrown  himself  upon  a  sofa, 
and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  he  told  him 
that  he  should  return  as  soon  as  he  had  sent 
Miss  Anstruther  home,  and  begged  him  to  re- 
main till  then  where  he  was. 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FEIENDS.  309 

The  Colonel  withdrew  his  fair  charge  from 
the  apartment.  However,  if  truth  must  be  told, 
Louisa  did  not  at  all  admire  leaving  her  poor 
victim  in  his  distress  without  some  explanation, 
or  something  like  forgiveness.  The  crime  would 
have  been  venial  even  had  the  supplication  been 
of  a  different  nature,  although  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted, in  the  present  state  of  society,  some- 
what extraordinary;  for  in  these  less  formal 
days  than  those  of  our  ancestors,  a  lover  known 
to  have  been  on  his  knees,  loses  his  character,  as 
certainly  as  a  horse  does  for  the  same  fault. 

All  her  attempts  at  soothing  or  conciliating, 
however,  were  purposely  frustrated  by  her  un- 
cle, who  having  despatched  her  to  Park  Lane, 
returned  to  his  nephew. 

"  Well,  Mr.  George  Arden,"  said  he,  "  this 
is  a  pretty  specimen  of  your  decency  and  deco- 
rum, and  a  kind  proof  of  the  high  respect  you 
have  for  my  wishes  and  commands.  I  warned 
you  from  any  advances  to  this  young  lady,  be- 
cause I  told  you  she  was  under  an  engagement 
of  marriage  with  a  particular  friend  of  mine  ;  I 
place  her  with  confidence  under  your  roof  and 
protection,  and  the  moment  my  back  is  turned 


310  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

you  seize  the  opportunity  to  outrage  her  deli- 
cacy by  conduct  so  extraordinary,  that,  if  I  had 
not  seen  it  myself,  no  power  on  earth  would 
have  convinced  me  that  you  were  capable  of  it." 

"  Uncle,"  said  George,  "  you  are  deceived." 

"  Deceived  !  what  do  you  mean  by  deceived  ? 
Did  I  not  see  you  actually  on  your  knees  to 
Miss  Anstruther  ?" 

"  You  did, — but  you  little  know  the  cause  of 
my  solicitude,"  said  the  agitated  young  man ; 
"  you  little  know  what  I  implored." 

"  I  certainly  don't  know,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"  but  I  think,  George,  I  could  venture  a  pretty 
shrewd  guess." 

"  It  was  love — affection  !"  sobbed  George. 

"  I  thought  so,"  interrupted  his  uncle. 

"  For  yow,  Sir,"  added  the  young  man. 

"  Love  for  me  ?"  cried  the  Colonel,  "  what, 
kneel  to  Miss  Anstruther,  against  approaching 
whom  I  so  seriously  warned  you,  to  evince  your 
love  for  me  ?  No,  no,  Sir  !  don't  attempt  to 
palliate  your  crime  by  hypocritical  professions 
of  affection  for  me! — The  girl  is  a  charming 
girl,  and  if  I  had  not  given  you  the  timely  no- 
tice I  refer  to,  I  shouldn't  have  cared, — save 
and  except  that,  under  the  circumstances,   in 


THE    MAN    OF    MAKY    FRIENDS.  3ll 

your  own  house,  and  after  so  short  an  ac- 
quaintance, the  measure  was  somewhat  desperate. 
However,  as  I  have  said  before,  the  intercourse 
must  cease,— I  shall  observe  perfect  silence  on 
the  subject,  and  I  would  advise  you  to  do  the 
same.'''' 

"  Uncle,  uncle  !  you  misunderstand  me,"  said 
George :  "  I  was  imploring  Miss  Anstruther  to 
tell  me  by  what  tie  she  possessed  the  influence 
over  you  which  she  evidently  has.  Having  once 
ascertained  that  point  I  would  have  prayed  her 
to  exert  it  to  save  you."  , 

"Save  me,  young  gentleman  !*—  what  d'ye 
mean  ?"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  Forgive  me,  Sir,  but  I  cannot  shut  my 
eyes  to  passing  scenes :  the  style  in  which  you 
are  living  is  far  beyond  the  means  which  you 
have  always  told  me  you  possessed.  You  have 
servants  who  are  useless  to  you,-— carriages  un- 
tenanted,— and  horses  never  mounted." 

"  Indeed !" 

"  And  then,  Sir,"  added  George,  "  you  seem 
so  implicitly  to  believe  every  thing  which  those 
by  whom  you  are  surrounded  choose  to  tell  you  ; 
and — Noel,  Sir,— you — you— have  lent  Noel 
money." 


312  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  Umph !"  said  the  Colonel,  "  so  have  you, 
George." 

"  True,  Sir, — but  I  am  younger,  and — " 

"  Richer,  perhaps,"  said  the  Colonel ;  "  how- 
ever I  conclude  that  you  would  not  have  been 
foolish  enough  to  lend  him  money,  if  you  had 
not  expected  him  to  repay  you ;  besides,  I  sup- 
pose I  may  do  as  I  please  with  my  own  pro- 
perty ?" 

"  Undoubtedly,  Sir,"  continued  George,  "but 
— I  am  sure  you  will  forgive  me — you  have 
given  Noel  apartments  in  your  house." 

"  Well,  what  then  ?"  said  old  Arden ;  "  he 
was  staying  with  you  last  year." 

"  True,  Sir,  but " 

"  But  what  ?"  asked  the  Colonel ;  "  you  re- 
commended him  to  me  as  being  at  once  the  ora- 
cle and  model  of  all  his  acquaintance." 

"  But  you,  Sir,  are  not  living  alone." 

"  Well!  what  then  ?" 

"  The  best  of  men,  uncle,  where  women  are 
concerned,"  said  George,  "  are " 

"  Why,  you  do  not  mean  to  insinuate,''  said 
the  Colonel,  "  that  your  honourable  and  excel- 
lent friend  Noel  is  without  principle." 

"No;  only " 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FRIENDS.  313 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  speak  thus,"  said 
his  uncle,  gravely,  "  particularly  after  the  re- 
cent exhibition  we  witnessed  in  this  very  room. 
Surely  you,  who  have  studied  human  nature  so 
closely,  as  you  say  you  have,  cannot,  for  two  or 
three  years,  have  been  so  extremely  intimate 
with  a  man  on  whom  you  have  no  reliance.  If 
this  is  all  you  have  to  advance  in  defence  of 
your  conduct  towards  Miss  Anstruther,  under 
your  own  roof,  it  is  but  little.  I  repeat  that,  for 
many  reasons  it  will  be  wise  to  maintain  silence 
upon  the  subject  altogether ;  but,  in  the  mean 
time,  you  must  abstain  from  visiting  in  Park 
Lane." 

"  Oh,  uncle,  uncle  !" 

"  I  will  take  care  that  Miss  Anstruther's 
residence  in  London  shall  be  shortened.  After 
her  departure,  I  trust,  we  shall  again  be  as  soci- 
able as  ever ;  but  during  her  stay,  the  duty  I 
owe  to  her  family  and  character  forces  me  to 
say,  that  my  doors  are  closed  against  you." 

"  Once  more,  dearest  uncle,  listen,"  exclaimed 
George. 

"  On  any  subject  but  this,"  answered  the 
Colonel ;  "  I  dine  with  you  to-day,  by  my 
own  invitation — at  seven,  I  conclude  ?" 

vol.  i.  p 


3 14  THE    MAN   OF    MANY   FBIENDS. 

George  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Do  not  imagine  that  I  am  angry,  George," 
added  the  old  gentleman ;  "I  am  only  mortified 
and  disappointed.  However,  I  am  quite  sure  it 
is  wisest  and  best  for  all  parties  that  I  should 
hear  no  more  of  the  affair — indeed,  at  present,  I 
have  no  time,  for  I  promised  Wilson * 

"  There  again,"  interrupted  George,  "  that 
fellow  Wilson, — I  wished,  Sir,  to  put  you  on 
your  guard  against  his  tricks — he — he " 

"  Is  what  you  always  considered  him,"  said 
the  Colonel,  "  an  invaluable  servant ;  and  you 
must  excuse  me,  if  I  beg  you  will  not  utter 
one  syllable  to  his  disadvantage.  I  have  no 
doubt  but  that  you  are  sore,  and  feel  your  pride 
hurt  that  he  quitted  you  so  abruptly  ;  but  you 
should  recollect,  that  it  was  by  your  own  per- 
mission." 

"  It  was  because  , " 

"  Never  mind,  never  mind,1'  said  old  Arden, 
cutting  him  short,  "  J  have  got  him,  and  am 
quite  satisfied — you  have  lost  him,  and  are  dis- 
pleased. Can  there  be  two  stronger  proofs  of 
his  real  worth  ?" 

The  Colonel  had  hardly  concluded  this  speech 
when   some  visitors  were  announced;   and  the 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  315 

old  gentleman  quitted  his  nephew's  house,  to 
organize  his  plans,  with  respect  to  the  future 
prospects  of  the  hopeful,  but  by  no  means 
"  fortunate  youth." 

It  had  been  arranged  by  the  Colonel,  that 
Louisa  should  go  and  dine  with  Mrs.  Abberly 
on  this  important  day,  and  accordingly,  on  his 
return  home,  he  dispatched  his  fair  niece  to  his 
lawyer's  residence,  in  Montague  Place,  where 
she  underwent  the  heavy  details  of  a  plebeian 
dinner.  To  grace  the  board,  there  was,  first, 
a  tureen  filled  with  stuff,  made  at  a  neighbour- 
ing pastrycook's,  (sent  home  in  a  copper-pan, 
upon  the  head  of  a  dirty  boy,  in  a  linen  jacket, 
with  a  paper  of  sweet  cakes  under  his  arm,) 
called  mock  turtle,— a  glue-like  mixture,  illus- 
trated with  dirt  boluses,  much  in  use  amongst 
modern  Goths:  secondly,  the  head  and  shoul- 
ders of  a  cod-fish,  as  large  as  a  porpoise;  and  a 
haunch  of  mutton,  kept  till  half  putrid,  decorated 
with  a  paper  ruffle,  to  look,  and,  if  possible,  smeli 
like  venison.  The  second  course  consisted  of 
three  twice-roasted  pigeons,  ambushed  in  pars- 
ley, some  limp  jelly,  some  sky-blue  6/awf-mange, 
and  a  huge  fruit  pie  covered  with  crust ! 

The  poor  girl,  suffocated  by  the  oppressive 


316  THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

smells  which  assailed  her,  and  worried  to  death 
by  Mrs.  Abberly  to  eat,  and  eat,  and  eat,  passed 
a  wretched  day,  and  when,  with  the  dessert,  came 
again  all  the  little  Abberlys,  as  usual,  she  was 
less  philosophical,  and  less  engaging,  than  she 
ordinarily  contrived  to  be  upon  similar  occa- 
sions. 

In  addition  to  all  her  other  little  miseries,  I 
cannot  avoid  noticing  the  presence  of  a  young 
underbred  gentleman,  a  nephew  of  Mrs.  Ab- 
berly, who  worried  her  to  death  by  his  im- 
portunate civilities. 

He  was  a  little,  stout,  black-haired  man,  with 
extremely  red  cheeks,  beetle  brows,  and  a  white 
forehead ;  extravagantly  dressed,  and  affecting 
to  know  every  body  and  every  thing ;  his  conver- 
sation was  full  of  plebeian  quaintnesses,  and  his 
manner  characterized  by  unbounded  familiarity. 
He  punned  with  the  father,  and  played  with  the 
children,  was  on  excellent  terms  with  the  lady 
of  the  house,  drank  three  cups  of  hot  tea,  and 
flirted  with  the  governess,  which  last  proceeding 
was  a  considerable  relief  to  Louisa;  who,  by  the 
calm,  placid  manner  in  which  she  received  the 
abrupt  advances  of  the  pert  youth,  drove  him 
to  the  well-known  vulgar  Highgate  alternative, 
which  he  had  previously  informed  his  friends  he 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  317 

had,  "  when  quite  a  boy,  just  for  fun,"  been  ac- 
tually sworn  to,  at  some  public-house  in  that  ex- 
alted village. 

Louisa,  in  fact,  never  was  more  uncomfort- 
able :  she  had,  during  the  morning  been  en- 
gaged in  a  conversation,  to  her,  of  the  most 
interesting  character;  her  whole  mind  was  occu- 
pied by  the  subject  of  it;  she  reflected  on  the 
declaration  which  George  had  so  candidly  made, 
that  he  had  no  heart  for  Miss  Neville,  and  yet 
was  so  little  satisfied  of  the  real  motive  for  his 
prostration  when  they  were  interrupted,  that 
she  could  not  decide  whether  slie  herself,  in  her 
assumed  character,  was,  or  was  not,  actually  her 
own  rival,  in  her  real  one.  Her  diffidence  was 
such  that  she  could  hardly  imagine  her  "  rural 
charms''1  capable  of  producing  an  effect  upon 
George,  so  sudden  and  so  serious  as  the  capti- 
vation  of  his  heart ;  and  she  had  the  modesty  to 
set  down  all  his  agitation,  all  his  wildness,  and 
all  his  devotion  to  her,  to  his  affection  for  her 
uncle — a  belief,  which,  if  less  complimentary  to 
her  own  attractions,  most  assuredly  did  not  de- 
teriorate from  her  high  esteem  and  regard  for 
George. 

When  a  woman  loves,  and  is  determined  to 
love,  it  matters  little  what  the  accident  or  inci- 


318  THE    MAN    OF    MANY   FRIENDS. 

dent  may  be  in  which  her  beloved  is  involved — 
all  things  are  sure  in  her  mind  to  tend  to  his 
advantage ;  and  under  the  powerful  influence  of 
the  rosy  god,  his  votaries  discover  (perhaps  too 
late)  that  the  fillet  which  he  so  readily  lends 
them,  is  sufficiently  long  to  cover  the  ears  as 
well  as  the  eyes.  It  must  be  confessed,  that 
Louisa  was  placed  in  a  difficult  position:  if 
George  had  enthusiastically  remembered  her  as 

"  The  hallow'd  form 

Which  love  first  traced," 

it  would  have  been  clear,  that  the  impression 
then  made  was  of  a  nature  not  to  be  effaced  by 
her  present  appearance,  manner,  and  accom- 
plishments; and  although  she  longed  to  recall 
to  his  recollection  those  hours  when  they  were 
all  the  world  to  each  other,  she  still  rejoiced  in 
the  hope,  since  the  hand  of  nature  had  so  com- 
pletely changed  her,  that  the  power  which  her 
childish  beauty  had  given  her  at  one  time  over 
George  had  subsided ;  and  could  she  have  sup- 
posed, as  I  before  said,  that  her  new  influence 
in  her  new  character  was  supreme,  she  would 
have  been  saved  a  world  of  pain  and  anxiety, 
which  she  suffered  during  the  siege  which  she 
was  sustaining  in  Mrs.  Abberly's  drawing-room, 


THE    MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  319 

from  the  quibbling  nonsense  of  Mr.  Tadpole, 
and  the  practical  familiarities  of  the  juvenile 
branches  of  the  family. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening,  and  the  hour  had 
arrived  at  which  the  carriage  was  expected  to 
take  Louisa  home,  when  Mr.  Abberly's  under- 
sized man-servant,  whose  thick  creaking  shoes 
(as  the  sounding  horn  foretels  the  coming  mail) 
always  announced  his  approach  long  before  his 
appearance,  delivered  a  note  to  Louisa,  men- 
tioning at  the  same  time  that  her  maid  was  be- 
low. This  event  somewhat  surprised  her,  but 
conscious  that  all  her  uncle's  measures,  inde- 
pendently of  being  correct,  and  of  its  being  her 
bounden  duty  unhesitatingly  to  obey  them, 
tended  to  the  great  point  of  George's  deliver- 
ance, she  sought  no  farther  than  to  follow  his 
instructions,  which  were,  that  she  should  en- 
treat the  favour  of  a  bed  for  that  night  at 
Mr.  Abberly's — a  favour  no  sooner  asked  than 
granted.  Miss  Gubbins  could  sleep  with  Sophy, 
and  Miss  Gubbins's  bed  could  be  got  ready  for 
Miss  Neville ;  an  arrangement  which  seemed 
vastly  agreeable  to  every  body  concerned,  ex- 
cept Miss  Gubbins  herself,  who,  being  a  go- 
verness of  the  second  or  third  class,  did  not 
preserve  the  economy  of  her  toilette  with  that 


320     THE  MAN  OF  MANY  FRIENDS. 

care  which  marks  the  nick-nackeries  of  more 
refined  and  better  regulated  ladies  of  the  same 
profession.  The  drawers  of  her  dressing-glass 
were  full  of  pins  and  old  papilliotes,  her  hair- 
brushes were  few  and  ancient,  her  tooth-powder 
was  crumpled  up  in  the  envelope  of  an  old  letter, 
the  tin  box  in  which  it  was  formerly  kept  hav- 
ing been  converted,  by  the  economical  fair  one, 
into  a  receptacle  for  some  cold  cream,  which  she 
had  smugged  from  Mrs.  Abberly;  while  her 
dry  and  dustful  tooth-brush  and  nail-brush 
slumbered  together  in  one  small  tray.  All  these 
dreadful  discrepancies  were  to  be  remedied  be- 
fore Miss  Neville's  maid  could  possibly  go  into 
the  room  ;  and  then  there  were  half-a-dozen  pair 
of  old  shoes  in  one  drawer,  and  a  ragged  bed- 
gown in  another,  and  her  only  comb  was  dirty, 
and  there  were  two  little  vial  bottles  and  a  box 
of  corn-plaster  in  the  drawer  of  the  basin-stand, 
and  then — 

Poor  Louisa  saw  the  dismay  her  request  had 
occasioned,  but  all  objections  were  over-ruled. 
Miss  Gubbins  protested  that  it  was  not  the  least 
trouble  in  the  world — quite  a  pleasure — and  it 
was  so  lucky  Sophy  had  been  let  to  sit  up,  be- 
cause Miss  Gubbins  would  not  disturb  her  in 
going  to  bed. 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  321 

"  Do  you  sleep  with  Miss  Gubbins,  Sophy," 
said  Mr.  Tadpole  to  the  eldest  girl,  turning 
over  the  leaves  of  a  music-book,  so  that  Miss 
Gubbins  might  hear  the  question,  and  nobody 
else. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sophy. 

"  Oh  !"  sighed  Tadpole,  turning  his  eyes  as 
far  round  towards  the  governess  as  the  stiffness 
of  his  collar  would  permit. 

"  And  we'll  have  such  fun  in  the  morning," 
continued  Sophy. 

"  Fun  !"  said  Tadpole,  "  happy  child  !"  and 
patting  her  on  the  head,  he  rose  from  the  music- 
stool,  and  walked  towards  the  window,  perfectly 
satisfied  that  Miss  Gubbins  not  only  had  heard, 
but  understood  and  appreciated  the  whole  of 
the  interesting  colloquy. 

To  say  that  Miss  Gubbins  did  not  hear  it, 
would  be  to  say  that  which  is  not  true  ;  a  sud- 
den contraction  of  her  brow  announced  the  fact : 
but  it  did  not  convey  an  expression  of  anger; 
it  was  only  meant  as  a  warning  glance  to  Tad- 
pole not  to  talk  so  loud,  or  so  plainly,  before 
Mrs.  Abberly ;  yet  so  fond,  and  at  the  same 
time  so  stupid  was  Mr.  Tadpole,  that  he  never 
rallied  his  spirits  after  the  young  person  in 
question  had  quitted  the  apartment  to  put  her 


322  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

"  room  to  rights,"  fearing  that  he  had  seriously 
offended  her  by  his  vulgar  allusion. 

So  disagreeable  a  termination  to  so  disagree- 
able a  day,  Louisa  could  hardly  have  antici- 
pated. It  was  not  that  she  felt  annoyed  by  the 
inconvenience  of  sleeping  away  from  the  com- 
forts of  her  own  dressing-room — it  was  not  the 
feeling  that  she  had  turned  the  governess  out  of 
her  bed  which  annoyed  her :  upon  these  sub- 
jects, which  would  have  agitated  smaller  minds, 
Louisa  was  quite  calm  and  composed;  but  it 
was  because  she  was  thus  suddenly  and  inex- 
plicably separated  from  her  uncle — it  was  be- 
cause she  apprehended  that  the  change  in  his 
measures  had  its  origin  in  some  sudden  altera- 
tion in  George's  proceedings — in  short,  it  was 
because  she  conjured  up  dangers  and  difficulties 
to  him  who,  in  fact,  was  her  heart's  lord,  that 
she  was  feverish,  and  restless,  and  uncomfort- 
able. From  Harris,  her  maid,  she  could  learn 
nothing,  except  that  Mr.  Noel  had  taken  pos- 
session of  his  apartments  in  Park  Lane  that 
afternoon,  and  that  Mr.  Wilson  was  extremely 
anxious  in  his  enquiries  about  her  young  lady ; 
that  the  Colonel  had  sent  for  her  (Harris),  had 
instructed  her  how  to  proceed;  to  make  up  a 


THE   MAN   OF    MANY    FRIENDS.  323 

sac-de-nuit  for  her  mistress,  and  to  carry  it,  with 
a  note  from  himself,  in  a  hackney-coach  to  Mon- 
tague Place,  so  that  no  discovery  where  Miss 
Anstruther  really  was  might  be  made  by  any 
tattling  amongst  the  servants — a  discovery,  the 
value  of  which  was  raised  in  the  old  gentle- 
man's mind  proportionably  to  the  extraordi- 
nary anxiety  he  saw  amongst  his  young  asso- 
ciates to  make  it. 

Louisa,  therefore,  gained  little  by  the  commu- 
nication of  her  maid;  but,  nevertheless,  more 
had  been  doing  in  reality  than  any  of  us  per- 
haps may  expect. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  George  on  this 
day  gave  a  dinner  to  his  uncle ;  the  party  was 
to  consist  of  themselves,  Arthur  Dyson,  Cap- 
tain Macey,  Mr.  Mead,  Mr.  Dalby,  and  Mr. 
Bertie  Noel. 

Bertie  Noel,  however,  had  another  game  to 
play,  and  it  was  his  intemperate  anxiety  to 
carry  his  point  which  threw  him  off  his  guard, 
perhaps  fortunately,  and  laid  open  his  prepara- 
tions to  the  enemy. 

Noel,  when  he  first  saw  Louisa,  had,  as  we 
know,  determined  in  his  own  mind  that  she  was 
actually  what  Wilson  had  originally  described 


324  THE   MAN   OF   MANY   FRIENDS. 

her  to  be,  and  having  made  this  resolve,  every 
innocent  action,  every  thoughtless  word  of  her's 
tended  to  confirm  him  in  the  opinion.  It  would, 
perhaps,  be  unfair  to  Miss  Neville,  to  allow  my 
reader  to  suppose  that  there  could  have  been  any 
thing  in  her  manner  or  conduct  likely  to  justify  a 
suspicion  so  gross  and  indelicate  ;  but  the  truth 
is,  that  her  real  attachment  and  devoted  affection 
to  George  shewed  themselves  (unconsciously  on 
her  part)  in  all  she  said  and  did ;  and  Noel,  be- 
lieving, as  indeed  Arden  himself  believed,  that 
they  were  strangers  to  each  other,  argued  in  his 
manner,  that  if  she  were  so  excessively  warm  and 
familiar  with  his  friend,  who,  though  gay,  and 
animated,  and  kind,  and  liberal,  was  neither  so 
handsome  nor  so  accomplished  as  himself,  and 
comparatively  knew  nothing  of  women  or  the 
world,  it  merely  required  a  fair  opportunity  to 
play  himself  off  to  advantage,  to  convince  Louisa 
of  the  folly  of  her  choice,  and  divert  her  pas- 
sions and  feelings  from  the  course  which  they 
appeared  to  be  taking,  into  one  more  satisfactory 
and  flattering  to  himself. 

With  this  predisposition  to  believe  Miss  An- 
struther  easily  to  be  won,  and  with  a  determi- 
nation to  take  the  earliest  possible  advantage  of 


THE    MAN    OF    MANY'    FRIENDS.  325 

the  extraordinary  simplicity  of  her  old  friend 
the  Colonel,  no  sooner  did  Bertie  Noel  reflect 
that  at  George's  dinner  Miss  Anstruther  would 
certainly  not  be,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  (as 
he  concluded  she  had  no  female  acquaintance  in 
London,)  she  would  as  certainly  pass  the  even- 
ing at  home,  in  her  boudoir  in  Park  Lane,  than 
he  determined  to  avoid  Grosvenor  Street,  upon 
some  pretext  probable  enough  to  satisfy  George, 
and  dining  somewhere  early,  and  alone,  seize  the 
opportunity  he  so  ardently  desired  of  pleading 
his  own  cause  to  Louisa,  and  displaying  to  her 
astonished  senses  all  his  charms  and  perfections. 
Accordingly  he  wrote  a  laconic  note  to  George, 
took  a  cutlet  at  Long's,  stinted  himself  to  three 
glasses  of  wine,  and  before  ten  o'clock  repaired 
to  his  new  residence,  at  the  Colonel's;  that  being 
the  hour  at  which  Harris  had  been  despatched 
by  the  old  gentleman  to  prevent  his  niece's 
return. 

When  Colonel  Arden  arrived  at  George's  he 
had  no  notion  of  any  intended  operations  on  the 
part  of  Bertie  Noel  against  poor  Louisa,  but  as 
soon  as  he  found  that  the  young  gentleman  had 
avoided  dining  in  Grosvenor  Street,  upon  a  pre- 
text made  to  his  nephew,  which  was  wholly  dif- 

VOL.  I.  Q, 


326  THE    MAN    OF    MANY    FRIENDS. 

ferent  from  that  which  he  had  offered  to  him- 
self; not  only  were  his  suspicions  awakened,  but 
he  instantly  saw  the  absolute  impropriety  of 
leaving  his  niece  under  such  circumstances  at 
home  ;  for  he  had  previously  resolved  to  stay 
at  his  nephew's  party  until  it  should  finally 
break  up,  let  that  hour  be  what  it  might. 

Accordingly  the  old  gentleman  sent  one  of 
his  servants,  who  was  staying  in  Grosvenor 
Street,  to  summon  the  faithful  Harris  to  his 
council ;  and  excusing  himself  for  a  few  mo- 
ments from  the  convivial  board,  gave  her  the 
instructions  which  we  have  already  seen  she 
so  well  and  truly  fulfilled. 


END    OF    VOL. 


LONDON ' 
PRINTED    BY    S.   AND    R.    BENTLEY,    DORSET-STREET/ 


Hi 
Hi 


VmSSm 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 


3  0112  084213088 


